Let's Go
by November7th
Summary: This wasn't supposed to happen. Not this way. A story following the avatar Ian's past, future, and the choices he makes that inevitably lead to the condemnation of the world. It is only through the gift of a familiar spirit that time unravels and everything changes. But how does the death of one world lead to the salvation of another?
1. Prologue: Memories

**Hello everyone and hello fandom! I know I may be extremely late to the boat with writing this story. I have actually just recently finished playing Fire Emblem Awakening, and you know what? I decided to write. A word of caution, this will be my first fanfic, so if there is anything that seems amiss, don't hesitate to let me know. And with that, I bid you all adieu, and I hope you enjoy.**

**Cover Image by Marureenu on deviantart. **

* * *

**Prologue: Memories**

As the desert sun began its descent towards the horizon, a lone woman stood upon the balcony of a noble Plegian home; her body hunched over the marble railings as she watched the passing twilight sky. Upon the woman's body was a silk dress in emerald green, along with waist length hair the color of white ash.

The colors in the sky faded from orange to purple, and as the initial stars of the night began to shine, the woman continued to watch as her mind pondered about events that have passed, and about events that have yet to come.

She finally took in a deep breath and let out a loud sigh, ruminating over her marriage to a Grimleal priest a year and a half before. The marriage was arranged and the man she married was tall, lanky, and incredibly zealous in his servitude to their god. The marriage was done out of necessity. Her husband took a great interest in her the moment he laid eyes on her, though not through attraction or anything of the sort, but seemingly only because of her mere existence. The man arranged a marriage between the two and her family agreed, seeing the importance in social status with relation to a high priest.

It wasn't a happy marriage but it wasn't a miserable one either, albeit lonely. Once the wedding was over and the child conceived, her husband no longer took an interest in her and left to his own devices. Even sleeping in a different room. Alone and pregnant, the woman could do nothing but stay and wait, occasionally talking to servants and family members during the time.

Despite the lonely months however, it wasn't until her child was born did she begin to feel life making its way back to her. The woman looked from the balcony and back into her room, smiling at a small five month old sleeping baby boy whose short hairs were as white as her own.

The mother walked over to her child who laid upon her bed, stared, and kissed her son's small, soft nose. The baby yawned and continued to sleep.

As the mother stared upon her child, a click was heard when the bedroom door opened. The woman turned around, seeing a young man with brown, messy hair equipped with steel wyvern armor step inside.

"Hey, Laura," the man said softly as he closed the door. He walked over to the woman and the two embraced. When the two let go the man looked at the small child sleeping peaceful nearby, "How's my nephew doing?"

Laura smiled, staring back at her child, "Hey, Jon. Ian's doing just fine. He's just tired is all."

Jon smiled and walked to the side of the bed, crouched, and with his right thumb traced little circles on his nephew's forehead, "Hmm," Jon chuckled. "Must be nice not having a care in the world. I'm actually kind of jealous. Think I can trade places with him?" Jon asked, grinning up at his older sister.

"No," Laura replied while giving her brother a sheepish look. "No way in the world am I going to be your mother, you're already a handful as it is. Besides, my baby is cute, and you have work to do."

"But maaaaa," Jon complained in a childish voice, standing back up.

Laura closed her eyes and chuckled, shaking her head, "What do you want?"

Jon lifted his arms into the air and stretched, "Just finished a few training exercises with the guys. Couple of flight maneuvers and all. After that I decided to come up here, check out how my nephew was doing."

"Well, you can obviously see how he's doing," Laura nodded towards her son. "How's Marr?"

"Same pain in the ass as always," Jon grunted. "He keeps insisting he's the better flier and challenges me every chance he gets. I swear I'm considering taking up on his offer just to shut him the hell up."

"Sounds like fun," Laura laughed. "I'd do it for you, but I like having my feet planted on the ground with a sword in hand."

"Huh, that reminds me," Jon said as he sat down in a chair with his hands behind his head. "Why don't you go out as much anymore? I remember watching you go outside all the time and terrorizing the straw dummies all day long."

"I would if I could," Laura sighed. "But whenever I make an effort to, I'm met with resistance from mother and every other guard and maidservant in this forsaken castle. They say it's not lady-like and that a mother must always be with her child," She then shook her head. "Ian is the sun and the joy in my life, but he is only five months old. All I can do is feed him, change him, play with him, and occasionally read to him. He's not old enough to pick up a sword, as much as I would love that."

"That sucks..." said Jon as he scratched his nose. "That means I can't teach him to fly."

"Ian can't even walk and you want to teach him to fly?"

Jon shrugged, "You want him to hold sharp objects."

Laura sighed once more, "Not yet," she then went to go light the candles about the room. "So, anything new with Ylisse?"

"Not really. Exalt Liam is still raving about oh how Plegia is some sort of evil empire for our beliefs," Jon shook his head. "Crazy old man. Half the country doesn't even pay much attention to the Grimleal. It's mostly just social statuses and fashion statements," he leaned back, looking at the ceiling.

"Yeah. I would know all about that," Laura said in a depressing tone, returning to her seat.

Jon sighed, "Again, I'm sorry about that. I still thought the reason was stupid, especially watching you all cooped up like this."

Laura waved it off, "It's fine. I'm willing to make the sacrifice, especially if it makes mother and father happy. As well as a better standing for our family."

Jon paused for a moment, "...I guess," he then looked outside. The twilight had passed and was replaced with the darkness of night. "Well, I should be heading out. Time flew much quicker than expected," he stood up.

Laura watched him head for the door, "Alright. Have a good night."

"You too," and with a soft click, the door closed.

Laura yawned then looked towards Ian, noticing the boy's eyes were open and his mouth opening and closing.

"You wake up just as people say their goodnights. It's suppose to be the other way around, silly boy," as she sat the child up, Ian gave her a large grin and fell back down, laughing. Laura smiled and shook her head, "...Silly boy."

* * *

One week later Laura decided to go for a walk in the castle courtyard, leaving Ian with a maidservant to keep watch. Laura spoke with Jon again earlier that day who made mention that he somehow forgot something in the garden shed and couldn't be bothered to go get it himself.

While Laura made her way to the shed, she muttered under her breath, "...That moron," It was near evening once again, with temperatures becoming bearable for the time being.

When she got to the shed and opened the door, she saw a familiar curved katana sheathed in the corner of the room and her old swordmaster attire folded on the table before her. Laura smiled to herself.

"...That moron."

* * *

After a couple of hours, Laura decided to retire to her room. She was in high spirits and missed the feel of her sword at her side and the freedom of her robes on her back. However when she reached the second floor, she noticed several dark hooded figures enter a large room the hallway across from her.

Curious, Laura reached the other side and walked down the long hall, lightly pushing one of the large double doors at the end of it.

She gasped.

Before her was a large, darkened ocular room with pillars and torches of purple flame on each side. Several dark mages and priests faced an altar on a stage at the end of the room, all of them chanting.

Laura cautiously walked inside but found that no one gave a care towards her presence. It was then she saw three figures standing around the altar: One hooded man who appeared the same as everyone else. Another, an elderly but sturdy gentleman with a small white beard and greyish skin. And a third, tall, lanky, individual with a snake-like face and dark hair similar to that of a dragon… her husband, Validar.

While the three stood, two figures entered from a room on the right, both carrying a chest. The two figures then stopped a couple of feet from the altar and dropped the chest with a loud thud. All chanting in the room stopped. Laura looked around, still no one noticed her, but then she looked at the chest, and heard a muffled yet sharp sound emanating from it.

The two figures then grabbed the latches on both sides of the chest and opened it. Immediately the room echoed with the cries of a weeping baby. Laura's eyes widened in horror as she watched her husband walk over to the chest and picked up Ian from it. The crowd began chanting in unison once more.

With Ian in his hands, Validar turned towards the bearded man and smiled, "His heart is pure… father."

Validar's father grinned, "At long last."

Validar walked over to the altar and set Ian down on his stomach, the boy still crying. The three by the altar nodded to one another and lifted their hands into the air.

"Let us begin!" Validar's father yelled. "May our memories become imbued within him, and may our desire to reawaken our master finally become manifest through the vessel before us! Our salvation has come! It has come for us all!" he paused, "In Grima's name!"

The crowd yelled, "In Grima's name!"

Laura took a step back and whispered to herself, "They're mad. They're all mad," She then looked towards Ian on the altar crying, her hand reaching for her blade as she began her run towards her baby.

"May he bring death to all those under our master's wings!" The hooded man's hand glowed purple as he placed it on Ian's back.

"May his hand be the hand that destroys all those that dare yet live!" Validar placed his palm on Ian's hand.

Validar's father spread his hands out towards the room, "May his mind, body, and soul be torn apart and made anew! Let him be the instrument!" His hand hovered over the entirety of Ian's body. "Come forth and despair-!"

"UURRRAAAGGGGHHHH!" Laura screamed as she ran towards the altar, slicing the hooded man's neck and Validar as she unsheathed her sword. She jumped once more over the altar and lunged at her target, running her father-in-law through. She then gripped her sword with both hands and lifted the man's body into the air. The old man still alive, struggled for breath as he was lifted higher into the air, but blood soon trickled from his lips and his body became limp. Laura dumped the body unto the floor and pulled out her sword, turning around to face her husband and the hooded man.

The hooded man held his throat and gurgling noises came with each breath, he gripped the altar trying to hold himself up, but then slumped to the ground dead. Validar was hunched over, holding his chest, his blood seeping between his fingers. Breathing heavily, he looked towards his wife and gave a low snarl, "...Laura."

Laura stared back at him, the tip of her blade pointed towards him and her face in a snarl. She looked at Ian on the altar who was crying over the commotion. Her face softened slightly as she picked up her baby and held him close, but hardened once more when she turned to the man before her.

"I always thought you were overly zealous, but never would I expect you to go as far as this," Laura said, her blade still pointed.

Validar huffed, "Ha..tsss... ha..tsss… Give me my son… Now."

Laura's face returned to anger, "You are no father. And he is not your son."

Validar screamed, "NOW!" Every mage and priest in the crowd eyes turned blood red. Flames engulfed their hands and sounds of unsheathing swords and daggers echoed throughout the room. Laura turned toward the crowd, the anger in her eyes replaced with fear as her face turned pale. Her eyes widened when she heard the whistle of flames begin to rain upon her.

She ran.

Holding Ian in one arm and her sword with another, Laura ran towards the door on the right of the altar. Just as she ran through the door and made a sharp right, heat escaped from the room followed by flames burning the walls behind her. She looked back as she ran, and out of the flames ran the cloaked priests with swords in hand sprinting after her; the very sight of demons.

Laura sprinted down the hallway and up ahead was a window, the light of the full moon shining through it. Just as she was about to the reach the split in the hallway, a man walked in front of her from the right, his head slowly turning towards his left and his eyes widened when he saw the scene before him.

"Jon!" Laura screamed, grabbing her brother with her swordhand, "Move! Let's go!"

"What-!" Jon yelled, running while being half dragged by his sister. The window shattered from an explosion behind them.

Laura let go of Jon while the two ran towards the courtyard, Ian's cries were echoing throughout the castle.

"Call Frestrum now!" Laura yelled after the two busted through the courtyard doors and the cold air immediately hit their faces.

Jon whistled for his wyvern before a fireball fell and exploded right behind his heels. He jumped, "Son of a-!"

A deafening roar broke through the night as a silhouette of a dragon fell from the sky, crushing the pavement beneath its feet. Frestrum roared at Jon and Laura as they ran towards the wyvern, causing Ian's cries to intensify further.

The two climbed aboard as the dark cloud of priests and mages ran towards them, "Hiyah!" Jon yelled and Frestrum took flight. Fireballs launched into the sky and Frestrum's neck recoiled and liquid streams of fire began flowing from the wyvern's mouth onto the engaging priests below.

Screams of burning men and the smell of charred flesh filled the night as the group flew with their backs towards the moon. Laura sniffed the air as they flew into the night, the cold scent slowing calming her. After a couple minutes of silence, with nothing but the sound of Frestrum's wings, Jon, keeping his head forward, asked, "Now what?"

Laura looked at Ian who was still moaning slightly but had calmed down substantially since the event, and brought him closer to her chest, "Keep going forward. Bring us somewhere safe."

* * *

**And there we have it, the beginning of my very first fanfiction. Feedback is appreciated. If there is anything in the story now or anywhere in the future that can be fixed or improved, don't hesitate to let me know. Thanks and take care! **


	2. Chapter 1: Enemies at the Gates

**Hey, everyone. Sorry for the delay. Been having long days at work and this chapter ended up being much longer than I originally thought it would be. But in the end here it is. Again, I apologize. It's much longer than I had originally intended it to be. **

* * *

**Chapter 1: Enemies at the Gates**

Screams ran through his head. That one word of horror.

"_Mother!" _

Ian watched as the twin blades of the cavaliers slashed a white haired woman's neck and torso. Her face paled and her blade fell. She kneeled, reaching for her neck, and slowly fell face forward onto the ground...

* * *

_...You can still save her…_

Ian's face griped as he watched a blue haired man charge at a taller, darker skinned individual. The whispers of the past few months becoming stronger. Hand and blade made contact as they swung at each other, purple bouts of energy came with each blow. Ian's hand began to glow...

_...bring her back…_

Ian shot up as the dark skinned man teleported into the air.

_...give her the life she deserved..._

His teeth clenched, "I know..." as he watched the blue haired man's back slam into a pillar, large clouds of dust filling the air.

_...Had you been faster…_

"I know," the darker man's hand reached up, purple energy concentrating there.

The purple energy shot forward.

..._Had you been stronger…_

"I know!" a ball of lightning flew from Ian's hands.

An explosion came and white light filled the room. Ian opened his eyes as color made its way back to him. Before him stood the dark skinned man as he adjusted his stance, his blood red eyes staring back at him.

Ian looked towards the blue haired swordsman as he stood back up. He unsheathed a curved blade, "Chrom."

The blue haired man nodded towards him, "Right," as the two charged the sorcerer.

..._Take him…_

The man brought both hands forward, purple energy began to form. Ian and Chrom charged as the hilt of Chrom's blade began to glow. White light filled the room as they attacked.

_...Take them both…_

And for a moment, all was quiet.

The haze lifted, and the darker man fell, his magic escaping him. Ian then closed his eyes, the pale face of the white haired woman appearing before him once again. The whispers came once more. Ian immediately opened his eyes when he heard a scream, the purple energy coming towards them.

With his left hand, Ian pushed Chrom out of the way. The energy hit him, and his body became limp. Ian fell and his vision began to fade, the sight of his friend running towards him became a blur, "Mother…" Ian whispered to himself.

"_I'm sorry. I should have been faster. I should have been stronger,"_ Ian's thoughts began to flow.

..._Bring her back…_

_"It's my fault you're gone."_

_...Save her…_

"_Please, mother. Come back to me," _Ian's senses came back to him as he found himself sitting upright, his friend Chrom holding him. Chrom smiled as he watched the body of the man they slain disappear into nothingness.

_"Come back to me…"_

"I'm sorry, Chrom," as energy began to take shape in Ian's right hand. Chrom looked back at Ian and his smile faded. Ian stood up as his eyes turned red with the veins inside becoming more prominent.

Chrom's eyes widened as the stab came, he stumbled back, gripping the bolt of lighting as it punctured through him.

There was a sound of blood entering lungs. Chrom breathed heavily, struggling to speak as he looked back at Ian, "Ah...this is not your… your fault," the blood quickly leaving his face. "Promise me, you'll escape from this place," Tears formed at the edge of Ian's eyes. "Please. Go..." The light from Chrom's eyes faded as he fell forward. His life extinguished.

Ian breathed heavily as his own vision began to fade, "I'm sorry, old friend. But it was," he looked behind himself as the darkness slowly crawled towards him. Ian whispered softly, "...Please, come back to me. Both of you…"

* * *

Ian's eyes quickly opened as he woke up in bed, his bare chest cold as he looked at the open window. The darkness of night slept in his room, with only the illumination of the moon making his only light. Ian softly touched his face, confused at feeling silent tears rolling down his cheeks. He sat up and wiped them away, closing his eyes once more as he let out a slow, annoyed sigh, "Damn it… not again."

Ian pulled the bed sheets off his legs and shifted his body, sitting at the edge of his bed. He cupped his hands and rested his face in his palms, his breath muffled as he exhaled, "Guess I'm not getting any sleep tonight," Ian stood up and walked over to his desk, flicking his finger across the cover of a crimson tome. A tiny flame danced at the end of his finger. Ian lightly placed the flame above a candle, illuminating the small bed room.

Ian waved his finger, extinguishing the flame. He then walked over to an oval mirror by his bed, faced his back towards it and stared. A violet marking covered most of his back. The symbol contained six encircling eyes starting from his shoulder blades, ending with a small helix down the bottom middle near his lower back. Ian looked at the back of his right hand, seeing the same symbol marked upon it.

"_What are you?" _Ian thought, using his left thumb to try and rub off the tattoo, but expected nothing from it. He looked back at the mirror reflecting his back, and with his left hand tried to touch most of the marking, feeling nothing but his skin underneath.

Ian's hand dropped as his mind began to wander, wandering back to the white haired woman as she fell, her eyes staring back at him. Ian walked aimlessly about the room, trying to figure out her connection. Why was she so important? What was it about her that made his heart sink? His chest feel so heavy?

Ian walked back to his bed, sat down and leaned back lying down, with his hands behind his head. He stayed there quiet for a couple of minutes, thinking, feeling the cold breeze of the night brush over him. He stayed there, until without thinking, a single word fell from his lips, "...Mother." Ian blinked in surprise and said the word again. The word was familiar somehow, but it felt foreign. Ian stared at the ceiling and thought, "_Is that who that woman is? Did I have a mother?" _Ian was quiet once more, playing with the idea in his head.

After a couple of minutes, he heard movement outside. Curious, Ian got up and walked over to the window, surprised to see a blue haired man, his friend Chrom, wandering the grounds.

"_What in the world? What's he doing up at this time?"_ Ian watched as Chrom slowly stopped walking, his left palm lightly covering the bottom grip of Falchion as he stood facing the sky. Ian stared, then looked at his closet behind him then back at Chrom. Ian slowly sighed, "_Well... it's not like I'll be getting any more sleep tonight anyways,"_ He walked over to his closet, put his shirt and cloak on, put on his boots, snuffed out the candle, and walked out the room. Making his way to the courtyard where his friend stood.

* * *

Chrom stood within the palace courtyard, both arms crossed as he watched the stars of the night. He closed his eyes as he inhaled, held it for a moment, and slowly exhaled. The trees in the yard rustled at that very moment, as if by his own breath were they ordered to move.

The blue haired prince opened his eyes and turned when he heard footsteps behind him. He saw his close friend Ian walking towards him, his hands in his coat pockets and his white, messy hair contrasting with the darkened background. Ian gave a small wave as he approached, "Hey."

Chrom nodded, "Hey."

Ian smiled as he finally stopped, "It's pretty late out. Can't sleep?"

Chrom looked back up into the sky, "I'm uh… just dueling with some unpleasant thoughts," he answered, "We're going to march to Regna Ferox tomorrow, request for some additional soldiers. Now that we have a war on our hands," Chrom looked back at Ian.

Ian slowly nodded, "Yeah. Guess I never really thought that would ever happen, what with Emmeryn in charge and all."

Chrom shook his head, "I never thought it would happen either. Our war with Plegia ended just about fifteen years ago. And here we are now, just about to prepare for another."

"You've mentioned the Plegians always wanting war with Ylisse," Ian inquired. "And seeing Gangrel today, I don't doubt that. Care to explain?"

Chrom nodded, "Not everything Gangrel said was a lie. The last exalt, Exalt Liam. My father, if that means anything," Chrom looked to his side and back, "He declared war on Plegia about more than fifteen years ago. It was a war he told me, to root out the evils of the world, to make ours a safer place," Chrom said, "I was three years old when he told me that."

"What was so evil about them?" Ian asked.

"They worshipped the Fell Dragon, Grima. The very same dragon that almost brought about the destruction of the world a thousand years ago," Chrom replied. "The entire country was full of fanatics he told me."

Ian stayed quiet for a moment, slightly scrunched his face then nodded in understanding, "Well, evil dragon or not, I don't see why you need to declare war on a country just for the people's beliefs."

Chrom chuckled for a bit then returned to his story, "We invaded the day after my father declared war, but they were able to hold us off for a number of years. Soon we were running out of resources and running out of men. But my father refused to give in, despite knowing the war was lost. And so, he conscripted every able-bodied man to the fight," Chrom's face turned to shame. "Every farmer that could barely hold a pitchfork. Every child that was barely of age," Chrom gritted his teeth, his fists clenched. "Even the sick and elderly were forced to fight."

Ian's face saddened, "Chrom…"

Chrom continued, "We lost an entire generation and then some. The war finally ended with my father's sudden death. Assassinated by poison. Our mother died shortly afterwards, heartbroken after his death. They never found the man who did it," Chrom paused. "The assassin was considered a hero by almost everyone in Ylisse."

"I'm sorry, Chrom, for both your loss," Ian began. "It must be hard knowing that the one who killed your father was loved more by the people than your own father himself."

Chrom nodded, crossing his arms and looking back into the sky, "It's bittersweet I suppose. Glad that the war managed to end. Don't know where Emm, Lissa, and I would be now if it hadn't," Chrom looked at Ian. "But I lost both my parents because of it, and I wish I got to know my father more. Have something else to remember him by besides almost destroying two countries."

"Hey," Ian placed his hand on Chrom's shoulder. "From what I see, about what you told me about your father, was that he was a determined man. He went after what he believed was right. That's something you can remember him by," Ian smiled. "And I think it's safe to say that he did all of that with his family in mind."

Chrome stared, "Even after he had so many people killed and destroyed countless families?"

Ian sighed, "Well aren't you depressing? Yeah, even so. He was determined to keep you safe, even if his methods had so many people killed. But with that determination came his love, the exact same I see in you with your willingness to protect others," Ian smiled, bringing his fist forward and pressing his knuckles against Chrom's chest.

Chrom smiled back and grabbed his friend's hand, "Thank you. That means a lot," and for a moment, there was a silence of understanding.

Chrom let go of his friend's hand and crossed his arms once more, his stance much more confident, "Well, Emmeryn's in charge now. Became the new exalt when she was nine years old. The people hated her at first, thought she'd grow up to be just like her father. They even threw stones at her," Chrom became visibly upset for just a moment, but soon his face changed to that of admiration. "But she ended the war, brought all of the soldiers home. And in time we rebuilt the kingdom, Emm always showing constant love and compassion along the way."

"She's a fine ruler," Ian nodded.

"Indeed," Chrom agreed, "But there are people out there, men like King Gangrel that would rather destroy, take advantage of someone like Emm," Chrom dropped his arms and stared intently into Ian's eyes. "I will not let that happen. I won't let Gangrel destroy the peace my sister stands for, and if that means his death," Chrom looked and grabbed the grip of his sword, "Then so be it."

"Very well spoken, sir," came the sound of a third person, the voice forcibly deep.

Chrome and Ian turned to see a figure step from the shadows. The person was covered in clothing the color of naval blue, with white cuffs at their wrists and atop their boots, ending at their lower thigh. They wore a cape that had the colors of crimson red as seen from the front and blue at the back. A sword that bore a striking similarity to Chrom's, sheathed on their left side. Their dark colored hair was short, and upon their face rested a beautiful blue mask gilded in traces of gold. Their eyes covered, hiding their identity.

"Marth…" Chrome spoke to the man before him, his face showing his surprise.

"Good evening to you," Marth gave a small smile at Chrom's surprise.

"How did you get in here?" Chrom asked, trying to look behind the mysterious swordsman.

Marth pointed behind him, "The cleft in the castle wall, behind the maple grove. Decided to let myself in."

Chrom's confusion grew, "The maple tree? How do you know…?"

"Chrom?" Ian asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I accidently bashed a small hole in by the tree while training with the Shepherds a couple months ago. I could have sworn it was well concealed though…" Chrom admitted, looking a little annoyed.

Ian blinked, "You should probably get that fixed, least another assassin decides to come through."

Marth nodded, "Funny you should mention that. There is something I wish to warn you about."

Chrom turned back to Marth, "Warn us? About what?"

Marth turned his head, looking behind himself, quiet for a moment as if listening for something, "What if I told you there is a plan to take out the exalt's life tonight?"

Chrom's eyes widened, "What, Emmeryn? That's absurd, she's guarded at all hours," Chrom thought for a moment. "An assassin?"

"Make that a couple dozen," Marth corrected, "What if I told you I've seen the future? Would you believe me?" Marth's body straightened, slowly reaching for his blade. "What if I told you that in that very same future they succeed, and Exalt Emmeryn is killed. Tonight. Would you believe me?"

"The future?" Chrom asked, his look of extreme skepticism as his brows were extremely furrowed. "Are you mad?"

"You don't believe me. Alright then," Marth nodded. "Then allow me to prove it to you," he pulled out his blade, pointing it at Chrom.

Chrom and Ian reached for their swords.

Marth continued to stand there, almost relaxed as he explained, "I'm about to save your life," Chrom paused as Marth motioned behind him. Out from the bushes a hooded assassin charged, intending to silence Marth's words. Marth quickly turned around, parrying the attack. Marth spun around once more, kicking the assassin in the face before slashing the man diagonally through his chest. With his back towards Chrom, Marth extended his sword to his side, looking back, "I trust this proof will suffice?"

Chrom slowly nodded in surprise, "...Yeah."

Marth looked content for a moment, but gasped when he heard a rustle in the tree before him. A second assassin jumped from the top of the tree, intending to strike at a shocked Marth below. Marth stepped back, but was shoved forward as Ian grabbed him by the waist, the two falling forward as the assassin's blade flew overhead.

The assassin kneeled as he landed, looking up to the sight of Chrome bringing Falchion over his head, effectively crushing the assassin's skull.

Ian and Marth looked behind them as they laid on the ground, the former holding the latter's shoulder. Ian then turned towards Marth, intending to ask him if he was okay, "Hey, are you-?" Ian stopped, his eyes widened. Inches away from his face was that of a woman's, the mask gone. Marth's short, blue hairs dropped, revealing its true length.

Marth, noticing Ian's stare, instinctively reached for where their mask should have been. Feeling nothing, they looked at the ground in front of them, finding the mask broken in two.

"Hey!" Chrom ran up to the two, bringing his hand down to help them up. But as Marth turned their head, Chrome froze for a second, "Wait…" his hand hanging. "You're a woman?"

The woman nodded, dusting herself off as she got up on her own, "Mmhmm. And quite the actress too, apparently. Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't figure it out sooner," she tilted her head.

An explosion came from the castle in the distance, the three turned. Chrom, grabbing the grip of his sword, said, "Come on," as the three ran towards the source of the noise.

* * *

"Where's my damn horse!" the angry yell of a woman echoed through the castle halls.

"They're all at the stalls! Forget about it, Sully! We have no time!" two individuals in red and green armor ran across the hall towards the exalt's room, spears in hand.

"How the hell did they manage to get in?" Sully, the woman in red armor yelled.

"No clue! Think it was that explosion we heard earlier. They must have busted through the front gates!" the man in green armor answered.

"Those bastards! There will be hell to pay when I get to them!" Sully yelled, turning her head as they passed another split in the hallway. As they ran, she saw Chrom, Ian, and the unknown woman running towards them. Sully motioned for the three to hurry up, "Come on, you guys! We have to move! Let's go!"

As the five ran for the exalt, Sully turned toward the stranger, her eyebrows raised, "Huh? Who the hell are you?"

Chrom answered, "It's Marth. Turns out _he_ was really a _she_ this entire time."

"Oh really now?" Sully inquired, "Sweet, another woman that knows how to kick some ass!"

"Good to finally meet you for real this time," the man in the green armor greeted, looking at Marth behind him.

Marth gave a small nod, "...To some degree, but yes. The honor is mine...Stahl, Sully," The two nodded in return.

"We're almost there!" Chrom yelled. The five reached the exalt's room, along with Lissa, Frederick, Lon'qu, Sumia, and the rest of the Shepherds from behind. As they opened the doors, they found Emmeryn in her nightgown behind her bodyguard, Phila, who had already taken a defensive stance.

Phila lowered her spear in relief and Emmeryn turned her head toward the group, "Chrom…"

Chrom gave a small smile, relieved to see his sister unharmed, "Emm, you're alright."

Emmeryn nodded, "Yes, but it appears we have intruders at the gate."

"Yeah," Chrom agreed. He turned to Phila, "Phila, where are the guards?"

Phila nodded, "Most of the royal guard were stationed near the front doors this evening, completing their evening inspection. They're most likely combating the intruders right now, but I'm unsure how long they'll hold," Chrom looked back at the door. "My pegasus knights are mobilizing as we speak, but it will take some time."

Chrom looked back, "Alright then. Phila, keep Emm safe, we'll hold off the intruders until the reinforcements arrive."

Emmeryn's face changed to horror, "No, Chrom! Please, flee now while you still can," she turned to Phila, "And you as well. All of you, please run. What they want is me."

Chrom sighed, "Emm, you can be so thick sometimes. No way we're leaving you behind," he turned to Ian. "Ian, you're our tactician. Take the stage."

Ian nodded, "Got it," he turned to the group behind him, "Alright! Listen up! Looks like we're on the defensive! There are three main entrances leading to this room. The staircase from east wing, the one from the south, and the one to the west. In each room we will create a defensive line so no assassins get through," he turned to Frederick, "Frederick, I want you to gather a group and defend the east wing. Sumia will act as squad leader."

Frederick nodded, "Understood. Half of you come with me!" Frederick beckon his group to follow, the group leaving through the door.

Ian turned to Lon'qu and Marth, "I'll need you two to defend the entrance to Emmeryn's room. We'll need capable combatants to defend should one of the rooms fall." The two nodded. Ian then faced Chrom, "You, me, and the rest will hold the western wing. Make sure no one gets through."

Chrom nodded, "Alright then. You heard him, everyone! Lets move!" the group walked for the door, but Chrom stopped, turning around to face Emmeryn, "Don't do anything stupid while we're gone."

Emmeryn replied, her worry evident, "Be safe."

Chrom nodded, "You know I will," and he walked out the door.

* * *

Lon'qu and Marth stood guard outside Emmeryn's doors, the sounds of fighting echoing throughout the halls. The two had their swords sheathed, but their hands at the ready. Marth looked at Lon'qu who stood still, his head scanning the room for any intruders. Marth did the same.

After a couple minutes of silence, Marth spoke up, "Uh… Lon'qu, " Lon'qu continued to scan, "Lon'qu."

Lon'qu faced Marth, his face annoyed, "What?"

Marth looked down at the ground, unable to meet his face," I… want to apologize, about what happened at Regna Ferox," she looked up again.

Lon'qu grunted, then went back to scanning, "Hmph. I sensed something was off back then. Now I understand the reason why," he looked back at Marth, seeing her womanly features.

Marth nodded, "What I did was underhanded, but necessary. I owe you a debt of gratitude, more than you can ever know," she looked straight ahead, holding her sword's grip, "I know this may come off as sudden, but I wish to fight you again once this is over," she turned to face Lon'qu, "No tricks this time."

Lon'qu's face turned slightly red, but quickly changed back to his normal color as he looked away. He grunted once more, "We'll see…"

Marth smiled to herself as she went back to scanning, quietly whispering to herself, "Thank you… uncle."

* * *

"Why… the… hell… are there... so many of them!" Sully grunted as she sprinted with her lance pointed forward, running a myrmidon through.

Stahl, pinned down on the ground, was blocking an axe inching towards his face as he screamed out, "Someone! Help!"

An orange haired thief sprinted to the two struggling men, brought his blade over the assassin's back and stabbed. The man became limp, fell over and died. Stahl pushed the dead body off of him and got up, breathing heavily, "Ah… huh…. Thanks, Gaius."

The thief nodded, "No prob."

A couple feet away, Chrom and Ian stood by the stairwell, trying to hack away at any intruders trying to come up.

Ian grunted as he parried an attack, and kicked a man in the gut, causing him to fall down the stairs, "You said only one assassin killed your father! Why are they now sending an entire battalion!"

Chrom brought Falchion down on someone's head, "Damned if I know! But… there shouldn't be many left by this point! Ragh! We just need to hold the line!"

Ian slashed again then took out a green tome from his cloak and quickly flipped through the pages, "Screw it!" he turned behind him, "Ricken! Get over here! We need to get them off the stairs!"

A young man in mage garments ran up to him, "Got it!"

The two turned towards the stairs, their tomes in hand, "Chrom! Get out of the way!" Ian yelled. Chrom ran to the side of the wall, his back pressed tightly against it as powerful gusts of wind flew right by him, his hands tightly gripping the railings.

The remainder of the intruders laid on the ground, a couple were still alive but writhered on the ground. The rest were either unconscious or dead.

The group took a breather in that moment of silence, sweat running down their faces. Ian, Ricken, and Chrom listened for any movement downstairs, and after a minute of listening, cautiously began their descent. As they reached the bottom, the three stood still, looking through the hallway for any signs of hostiles, hearing nothing but their own nervous heartbeats.

Once it seemed everything was clear, Ian turned to Ricken and quietly spoke to him, "Ricken, go back upstairs, check up on the other groups. We'll stay down here in case any more show up."

Ricken slowly nodded as he went back up the stairs, "Alright."

Ian and Chrom nodded to one another as they searched the hallway and side entrances, their swords at the ready. Everything was quiet, almost eerily so. The sound of fighting had stopped upstairs, but no one seemed to be coming. The two then split up, cautiously walking to the western and eastern doors.

Chrom reached the westward door, and as his hand reached the handle, the doors flew open, gusts of wind pushing against his body. Chrom covered his face as the wind blew. As he lowered his arms, what stood before him was a tall, dark, lanky man, dressed in sorcerer attire.

Then there was a flash of purple.

Ian turned as he heard the noise, finding Chrom flying across the room. He then looked left, seeing the tall man walk into the room. His heart suddenly dropped. Ian's right hand and back began to warm. He looked at Chrom, seeing his friend unconscious by a wall, then looked back at the man walking into the room, a purple ball of energy forming over his right hand. Ian tightened his grip on his sword and ran.

Ian sprinted in anger towards the walking man, but as he got closer, the burning in his hand and back began to intensify. He looked at his hand when he finally noticed the burning sensation, shocked to find the mark glowing bright red. The pain in where the marks laid exploded. Ian dropped to the floor and screamed in agony, his sword dropping to the floor. Both his hand and back contorted as if he were being constantly braided by iron.

The man suddenly stopped and turned his head, finding Ian kneeling on the ground and screaming. Intrigued, he walked over and stood over the screaming tactician.

The man's eyes narrowed as he watched, staring at Ian's face cringing with intensity. His eyes then moved over to his right hand, seeing a very familiar symbol etched upon its back. Ian continued to grip his wrist so hard that his right hand began turning pale at the lack of blood.

The man grinned, "Your face. For some reason it brings me so much anger, such a hatred that I cannot describe. But at the same time, I feel joy. Joy that I have finally found you," the man's hand began to glow purple once more, "You have finally returned to me," the energy engulfed Ian as he was lifted into the air, his eyes on level with the man before him.

The man walked over and caressed his face, "You look so much like _her_. The resemblance is uncanny. The nose, the eyes, even the hair is almost the same-"

"Who the hell-?" Ian managed to grunt.

Pain instantly struck across Ian's cheek, "Silence!" the man yelled, striking Ian across the face. The calm instantly gone. The man paused. Suddenly with his other hand he struck him again. And again. And again. And again. And again. Two blood streaks were seen on the left side of Ian's face, the liquid inside began to leak out.

The man stopped, breathing heavily, "You have no idea how much trouble that woman has put me through. But here you are. Alive and ready to serve," the man grinned once more. "Be the vessel. Kill the exalt..." he whispered into his ear.

Ian's vision began to fade as footsteps were heard from the stairs. Yells were heard and war cries were made. Fireballs fell at the man's feet and Ian instantly dropped to the floor. Ian blinked slowly as the world moved in slow motion, but finally heard a scream as the man's body fell before him.

The man turned his head, he spoke words but Ian couldn't hear. The man reached for Ian's face and the world suddenly fell to black.

* * *

**That wraps up the first official chapter. It was also in this chapter did I realize how much I hate writing off of the game's script. Lack of freedom while writing as well as hearing dialogue people have already heard for the hundredth time. I wanted to change it up a bit but not deviate too much from the original script. This is one of the reasons why this took so long to write. Hopefully in the future there will be less of that and I'll have the opportunity to make up scenes that aren't in the game, but until then, thanks for reading, and I'll see you guys next time. **


	3. Chapter 2: Writings

**So there we go again, took me a while to write another chapter. Unfortunately I feel as though this is going to become more common as the story progresses, either due to writer's block or pure laziness. Either way, the chapter is here. I feel as though it could be a little bit better, but I am content with it for now. Anyways, thanks for reading so far and I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Writings**

_"Hey, sis. I think I found something." _

_"What did you find?"_

_"Remember when you told me to bring us somewhere safe? Well, I think I found it."_

_"It?"_

_"I think I found our new home..."_

* * *

The morning lights crept through the windows of the hospital wing, bringing its orange tint along with it. As the sun awoke from the horizon, the dawn began to tiptoe further into the room, visiting its sleeping occupants. The light reached for Ian's hand and slowly moved for his eyes, opening them as they made contact. Ian blinked but quickly closed his eyes once more, shielding himself from the brightness of the growing sun. He groaned, turning his head over in the opposite direction, preparing to go back to sleep. But then his eyes opened once more, the events of the previous night flashing before him.

Ian took in his surroundings, realizing where he was. He saw beside him multiple beds holding injured members of the royal guard, along with a large window with the morning sun peaking through it. Ian then looked straight ahead, noticing Chrom lying dormant in the bed across from him.

Ian then looked at his right hand and touched the marking on the back of it, no longer feeling the tortuous burns he felt the night before. He eventually stopped and sat there for a moment, turning to face the rising sun. After a couple of minutes however, Ian grew bored, and decided to get out of bed. Though the burning sensations had gone, he still felt the soreness in his muscles as his feet touched the floor. Ian let out a small grunt as he stood up.

The ash haired tactician walked slowly to his friend's bed, watching as the prince slowly inhaled and exhaled in his slumber. From what Ian could tell, Chrom looked a little beat up, but was healthy nonetheless, despite the injuries he had sustained the night before. Ian stared for another couple of seconds, debating whether or not if he should try and wake Chrom. He eventually thought against it and decided to head for the door, wanting to get out of the room while at the same time leaving his friend to rest. Ian grabbed his cloak that laid on the chair beside his hospital bed and quietly opened the medical room door, checking both sides of the hallway before exiting.

The castle was quiet for the most part. Ian only seemed to have run into servants that were preparing their duties for the day as well as a noticeably higher guard count shrewn about the hallways. The tactician was looking for anyone familiar however, someone that was present during their fight to defend the exalt to fill him in after he had lost consciousness. It wasn't long until he found Frederick. The great knight was standing near the front gates, a large gaping hole stood in place where the fifty foot tall wooden doors should have been. Frederick's arms were crossed as he watched the repairs in progress, while also assessing the damage created by last night's explosion. Ian slowly walked down the main hall towards him, "Good morning, Frederick."

Frederick turned around, a look of surprise on his face as he found the tactician standing before him, "Oh, Ian. What a surprise. I didn't think you would have recovered so quickly from the injuries you sustained from last night's skirmish."

"Yeah," Ian replied, scratching the back of his head. "Just woke up, couldn't get back to sleep. Decided to walk around for a bit. I feel cramps all over though."

Frederick nodded, "It's understandable. Your body was all contorted when we got to you," The knight's brows suddenly furrowed. "Although, I would like to ask, if you don't mind me being so forward…" Ian stopped. "What on earth happened back there? We heard ungodly screams coming from downstairs and by the time we arrived, we find Prince Chrom unconscious and you on the verge of death."

Ian suddenly became confused, "Wait. Did none of you see the man holding me captive?"

"We saw him. And though he was quite skilled in his craft, we were able to eliminate him," Frederick answered. "You and Chrom were the only casualties," he quickly added, noticing the look of concern on Ian's face.

Ian gave a sigh of relief, "Glad to hear it."

Frederick gave another inquisitive look, "However, both you and Chrom are also very capable fighters. How is it that one man was able to subdue both of of you so quickly?"

Ian slowly shook his head, "Chrom went to go open one of the doors when suddenly he was blown back into a wall. Guess he was knocked out instantly…" Ian looked at the back of his right hand, "As for me… I have honestly no clue. One moment I'm charging the guy that took out Chrom, and the next…" he looked back up at Frederick, "The next I have a burning sensation all over my body. It was like I was on fire, except ten times over."

Frederick stayed quiet.

"The man walked to me when I was incapacitated and he lifts me up. He started talking to me," Ian paused.

The two stood quiet for a couple of moments. "What was he talking to you about? Do you know each other?" Frederick asked.

Ian shook his head, "No. Well, at least I don't. But I think he knew who I was. He kept saying I had… returned to him."

"Could he have known you from before you lost your memory?" Frederick asked.

Ian stayed quiet for a couple of seconds and slowly exhaled, "I… don't know," he looked past Frederick, finding the masons hard at work repairing the gate and the walls that stood by it. He blinked, looked down on the ground and back up at Frederick, "Frederick, you mentioned that you and the others took out the man that took down Chrom and I?"

"Yes," Frederick answered, "He should no longer be a threat to us."

Ian nodded, "Good," he paused once more. "I would like to ask… may I see this man's body?"

Frederick raised an eyebrow and cautiously spoke, "I suppose. But what do you intend to do with it?"

"The man kept repeating that I had returned to him. And with what you said, I'm wondering if he really had known me before I lost my memories. And if he did, he may have some information that may help me recover them," Ian crossed his arms.

The knight thought for a moment, "A reasonable request. However, any equipment or valuables from the intruders last night have been confiscated from their bodies. Anything may have contained information as to how they could have staged this attack."

"Do you know where these items are kept then?" Ian asked.

Frederick straightened his body and brought his hands together behind his back, "They should be kept in the storage room in the eastern wing of the castle. However, many of the much more valuable items, such as documents, are on the main table in the library for further examination. It's being used as an impromptu examination area at the current moment."

"Thank you, Frederick," Ian replied. "I'll leave you back to your work."

Frederick nodded, "And you as well," turning his back to the tactician and walked back to the destroyed gate.

* * *

Ian walked back down the hallway, his hands in his coat pockets. The day had just barely begun but Ian still felt the lingering effects of exhaustion from the day before. He passed by windows that showed the orange rise of the morning sun and casually thought to himself how easily he could have mistaken it for a sunset.

"_Or maybe it really is a sunset and I can go back to sleep. Another couple hours of rest would be nice," _Ian smiled to himself as he walked for another couple of minutes, eventually finding himself at the large double doors of the castle library. He opened the doors and found rows and columns of bookshelves on both sides of him. A small number of individuals were scattered throughout the room with books at their side and documents before them. One of those individuals was the Shepherd's head researcher, the mage Miriel.

Mirel sat at the far end of the main library table on the opposite end of the room, her head quickly moving back and forth between the document and the purple text beside her. Ian with his hands still in his pockets walked up to the red haired mage and stood quietly beside her. A couple moments had passed however when he realized she still hadn't noticed him. Ian sighed and called out her name multiple times. Still she hadn't noticed. Ian's eyes lowered halfway and his lips neutral; he put one his hands on the left page of Miriel's text, getting an, "Oh," out of her as she finally looked up. Ian crossed his arms.

"Ah, Ian. My sincerest apologies. I did not notice your presence beside me as I was too engrossed in this operational manifest," the woman looked up, setting her quill down. She crossed her arms on the table, "Do you require any assistance?"

"Yes, that'd be appreciated," Ian answered. "I'm looking for documents, more specifically from the last mage that was taken out during last night's raid. Do you know where I can find them?"

"Yes, all important documentation is on the table before you. I have organized said documents by numerical page value starting with the lesser on the left and the increased value on my right," Miriel pointed to the papers before her.

Ian looked, "Well, isn't that convenient? But isn't it a bit dangerous to leave such important documents laying around?"

"At the current moment not all documentation has been properly processed and thus cannot be set aside for the castle records. My assistants and I are currently completing such a process including translations from Plegian to common," the woman adjusted her glasses.

"Plegian?" a quizzical look on Ian's face. "I thought Gangrel wanted a massive war, not a quick and clean assassination."

"On the contrary," Miriel went back to reading, "It would appear that the declaration of war and the assassination attempt are two entirely isolated events. Though the writing is of the same origin, the documents and the manifest make no mention of the Plegian king anywhere within their contents."

"That's strange," Ian noted, walking over to the other side of the table, picking up a large purple text from the row of evidence. "Do we know what their motives were? Maybe they didn't want to be traced back to the king?"

Miriel continued to read, "That is one possibility. Covering their tracks in the case their operation goes awry. However, the information we have gathered up to now appears much too fabricated for relation to the crown to make any amount of logical sense," she looked up at Ian as he flipped through the text before him. "Either they are being very thorough in their attempt to discombobulate our search, or it truly is an isolated event with absolutely no relation to the declaration whatsoever. My hypothesis would be the latter option," Miriel went back to her work.

Ian slowly nodded, "Right…" he continued to stand as he began to flip through the pages of the text in his hands. The book was heavy, with his right hand supporting the spine as his left flipped through the pages. It didn't take long for Ian to realize what he held in his hands was a journal. He went to the latest entry.

**_August 1, Year 1619_**

_Operations have been set into motion. I have been told that the Shepherds and their leader, Prince Chrom, have recently returned from their journey in the northern regions of Regna Ferox. Whether or not alliances between the two nations have been made leaves me with little concern however. It will simply mean more for the undead to fight. The strong will survive and they will grow while the weak will perish, and it appears this applies to both the living and the dead. Yet for my Risen, as the Ylisseans so delicately put it, death is not the end, but the means to it. Their dead armies will add to the uncounted legion._

Ian flipped a page.

**_August 1, Year 1619, Second Entry_**

_The Ylissean dogs appear to have come back from an unknown skirmish. What a pleasant surprise and what a fortunate stroke of luck for our operation. Our assassins were able to easily infiltrate the palace as much of the Royal Guard were sent along with the exalt west to the Plegian border. Things have gone much better than expected, it truly seems Grima has smiled upon us today. My men are in position, now all we must do is wait…_

Ian again flipped the page, finding that the rest of the pages were left blank. Though a tad disappointed, he found himself unsurprised as he already knew of the author's fate. Ian pulled out a chair from the table and set the text down, flipping through a random set of pages in the opposite direction as he sat. As Ian quickly skimmed the pages, he began to realize how old the text was. The first entry dated back to the year 1599.

"_A year before I was born," _Ian noted in his head, if Miriel's age evaluation of him back when he first joined the Shepherds was accurate. Ian jumped a couple more pages, curious to see what was written down in the year of his birth, noticing the inconsistency with a couple of entries that were either weeks or months apart.

**_February 17, Year 1600_**

_The child has bear fruit, a male, from the looks of it. All limbs accounted for, appears mentally stable and healthy. Good. A good potential vessel if we are to be so lucky. Whatever the child's name is is up to her, it matters not to me. It will come to me in time when the ritual ends. For now however, I must observe, see if he is worthy. If the spouse was correct._

Ian skimmed through the months, finding the text mentioning some religious rituals.

**J_uly 16, Year 1600_**

_The time of confirmation is near. All tests leading up to this point have gone well, almost perfect. Yet one more test remains. I must speak with the spirits one last time, perform the ritual of myself, my father, my grandfather, and those before me. If he is to be denied, then the cycle will continue. However, if the spirits accept him, then a millennium of waiting is finally over and the vessel's ritual will finally begin. The regrets of the world will finally be gone…_

**_July 17, Year 1600 _**

_Success! Success! My hands shake as I write, for my giddiness can be ill contained! The millenium is over and the year has finally come. He has been accepted! Even the spirits themselves can hardly contain their excitement. Now, in a couple moments time at midnight the ritual will begin and Lord Grima will finally return to us. All that is wrong with this world will be gone and all will rejoice! Seconds chances can finally be made and events will finally be as they should be. Oh my child, how proud I am to call you my son. Tonight I will finally learn your name…_

As Ian's hand traced through the writing, he noticed one particular page had more ink splatter seeping through it when compared to the others. Multiple bump marks protruded from the other side of the paper and were scattered about in random locations. As Ian turned the page, he realized why.

**_July 18, Year 1600_**

_They're gone… Damn it! They're gone! GODDAMNIT! _

The rest of the sentence trailed off as a line of ink was sloppily slashed to the side. What seemed to have been bump marks from the previous page were actually multiple stabbings of quill to paper, even ink prints of the bottom half of the man's fist were seen with each frustrated stab.

Ian leaned back in his chair for a bit, scratching the back of his neck. What he was reading belonged to a man that was now dead, but even then, the anger leaked through the page at an incredible rate. The tactician no longer felt comfortable reading.

Miriel looked up as she noticed the tactician leaning away from the book, a thoughtful look on his face as he looked up, "You have a rather incommodious look about you. Was it something you read from the text?" She asked.

Ian nodded while still looking up, "Yeah."

"Hmm," Miriel thought out loud, "Yet that specific text has yet to be translated. Would that suggest that you are competent in terms of the Plegian alphabet and its sentence structure?"

Ian froze. He stopped staring at the ceiling and looked back at Miriel. His eyes slowly moved over to the journal and read the words as he grabbed Miriel's translation book. He looked back and forth, realizing that he understood both texts as he read out loud.

"What on earth? I didn't even know Plegia had a separate written language until a few minutes ago. Now I'm able to read it as fluently as I can read, what, Ylissean?" Ian's eyes widened a bit at the realization, his face dumbstruck.

"Fascinating," Miriel said, bringing out a small notebook as she began to write down this new finding. "It would appear that your amnesiatic loss affects not only memory but some aspects of cognitive brain function. In this case your ability to understand two languages in terms of written text. I wonder what else has yet to be uncovered?"

Ian slowly nodded, "Yeah…" He immediately noticed the look in Miriel's eyes, the look that suggested the unparallel need to experiment. He decided it was time to leave. "Hey, um, I think I'm going to head out. Go for a walk and clear some of my thoughts."

Miriel stopped writing, "Very well then. Though while you are ruminating through your thoughts, please come back to me should you uncover any other memories or revelations of cognitive skill whether they be physical or mental. I would very much like to be able to write down any new discoveries."

"Yeah," Ian got out of his seat and walked out the door, "I'll be sure to do that."

* * *

"Ah, damn it. My back is killing me," Chrom spoke to himself, walking outside to the castle courtyard while rubbing his back. It had been an hour since sun rise when Chrom finally regained consciousness, the nurses in the medical room were also already up at this time and were preparing their work for the injured that day. Though they made attempts to have the prince stay and recover a little longer, Chrom wouldn't have it. A war was on its way and he needed to get the Shepherds ready.

As Chrom reached the training grounds, he found Lon'qu already hard at work with his swordplay, his grunts coming with each swing. Lon'qu worked on a straw dummy before him, slashing multiple times in a mad frenzy, leaving little time in between with each swing. After a couple more seconds, the man finally sheathed his sword as he finished his set, the head of the straw dummy rolling over moments later. The myrmidon turned his head as he heard Chrom approach.

"Hey," Chrom called out, looking at the decapitated dummy head, "Nice work. Looks like you did a number on him."

Lon'qu fully turned his body and gave a small nod, observing Chrom as he approached, "Hmm. You recovered."

"Yeah," Chrom grunted while stretching his back, "But it feels like... some parts more than others."

Lon'qu grunted, "Will that impede you in your work?"

"No, but…" Chrom started, rubbing his back, "It'll be a little bit painful in the meantime, as long as I don't strain myself. Though I suppose it's similar to what Frederick said, "Pain is weakness leaving the body,"I guess I'll need to work on that."

Lon'qu nodded, "...I think I may be able to help with some of that weakness."

Chrom raised an eyebrow, "How so?"

Lon'qu motioned with his finger, "Turn around," Skeptical and eyebrows still raised, Chrom slowly turned, his head turning to his right as he felt a hand placed on his shoulder. Realizing a little bit too late, Chrom's eyes widened as his torso stretched forward as he felt pain shoot through his back and Lon'qu's knuckles pressing hard against his back center. Chrom jumped forward as he gave a yelp, his hands reaching for his back as he hopped around in a circle. Lon'qu crossed his arms.

"Better?" the swordsman asked, watching as Chrom stopped and gave another stretch.

Chrom blinked as he looked up at the sky, his hands slowly rubbing his back as he stopped for a moment. "Yeah… surprisingly so," he turned around, "Thanks, Lon'qu."

Lon'qu nodded, "Weakness leaving the body."

Chrom smiled, "Yeah… guess so."

The two stood quiet for a moment in an awkward silence. Lon'qu never spoke much and Chrom didn't really know how to talk to the guy. Chrom shifted his feet as Lon'qu finally spoke up, "Well, was there something you wanted?"

Chrom rubbed the back of his head as he spoke, "No, not really. Decided to get some fresh air after waking up and I found you here. Wanted to see if you maybe wanted to chat."

"I don't chat," Lon'qu frowned.

"Right…" Chrom awkwardly looked away, putting his hands in his pockets as he decided what else to say. As the sun climbed into the sky, Chrom felt a little bit warmer, but not due to the heat from the rising orb, but from his embarrassment at the awkward situation.

Lon'qu slowly shook his head and sighed, "You're awful at this," Chrom just stared back as Lon'qu pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to him. The prince's eyebrows raised as he slowly accepted the letter.

"What's this?" Chrom asked as he looked upon the writing.

"Marth handed it to me. We were planning to spar today, however she seemed to be in a hurry. She told me to give it to you once you had regained consciousness."

Chrom had a suspicious look on his face as he began to read.

_Dear Prince Chrom,_

_If you are reading this then it means you have woken up and are well. Good. I apologize in advance for my sudden disappearance, however I have other matters that require my attention. I will keep this letter brief. The success in defending the exalt during last night's attempted assassination has a much higher impact than you realize. What we just accomplished has not only secured Ylisse's security, but the security of the entire world. I say this in confidence because of the future I have seen and my knowledge behind each action. Whether or not you believe me now is up to you. What's done is done, and I thank you for your help. With the upcoming war that looms before Ylisse, I pray you good luck in your endeavours. And perhaps one day our paths will cross again... _

_With my love and support,_

Chrom flipped the paper over looking for Marth's name, quickly scanning everywhere, even in areas that made no sense. After multiple searches the prince looked up, finding Lon'qu who had already resumed his training.

"Marth didn't sign their name," Chrom called out.

Lon'qu kept slashing, "It means little to me. I have not read the letter."

Chrom looked back at the parchment in his hand, "That's strange," he spoke to himself.

"What's strange?" a voice behind him asked.

Chrom turned around and smiled as he found Ian walking towards him, the tactician smiling back.

"Looks like you got up too. Guess even cold-stone injuries can't keep us done," Ian joked as he finally stopped walking. "You good?"

"I'm good," Chrom responded, "Lon'qu had to smack me in the back a couple minutes ago, but the pain's all gone. Now we just have the rest of the day we have to worry about."

Ian nodded, "Aye, that we do," he looked at the letter in Chrom's hand and asked, "What do you have there?"

Chrom handed the letter over as Ian began to read, the prince crossing his arms, "It's a letter from Marth. Looks like he, I mean she, mysteriously walked off again, gods know where off to this time."

Ian raised an eyebrow as he finished reading, "Strange fellow, isn't she?"

"Indeed," Chrom nodded. "But she helped us save Emm from a would-be assassin battalion last night. Whoever she is, she definitely isn't an enemy."

"A friend, perhaps?" Ian asked.

"I would assume so," Chrom putting his hands behind his head, "She may have her secrets, but she is definitely using them to help. We'll let her have her space for now. I have a feeling that's not going to be the last we see of her."

Ian nodded, handing the letter back to Chrom. "So what's the plan now?"

Chrom stashed the letter away in his back pocket and spoke, "Normally I leave the planning to you. But for right now I plan on visiting Emm. See how's she doing. After that I'm going to have to convince her to join us on our trip back to Regna Ferox. I don't feel safe leaving her here."

"Good plan."

"It's a start," Chrom said, walking pass Ian and towards the inside of the castle. "But knowing Emm, she is going to be against it."

"Need any help?" Ian asked.

"That would be nice," Chrom answered, turning his head to the practicing swordsman in the distance. "Lon'qu, want to come along?" Lon'qu stayed silent and continued training.

"Hmm, guess not," Chrom shrugged, "Well, come on, Ian. We have work to do."

Ian smiled as he caught up to Chrom, "As always," Lon'qu's grunts echoed off into the distance as the two made their way back inside. Ian then spoke up, "Hey, did you know I can apparently read Plegian?"

"Plegian?" Chrom asked, "That's new."

"Yeah, must have forgotten I knew it when I lost my memories," Ian held the door open for Chrom.

Chrom stopped walking and crossed his arms, staring back at Ian, "You first."

Ian's eyes lowered, "You're kidding me."

"Nope," replied Chrom, shaking his head. "You first," Ian made a face and shook his head as he walked inside. A smiling Chrom following suit. "So Plegian, eh? That's going to be useful when the fighting starts."

"Indeed," Ian agreed. "It makes me wonder if there are any other languages I can read."

"Only common," Chrom answered, a confused Ian looking back at him. "There are only two written languages. Plegian," Chrom marked off, "And common."

"So Ylisseans just call it "common"?" Ian asked.

"Common is the written language of Ylisse, Regna Ferox, Valm, and any other country that isn't Plegia," Chrom explained. "Plegia has their own alphabet whose sole purpose is to write 'Up yours' to everyone else without them knowing. They're strange like that," Chrom shrugged.

"Hmm," Ian thought out loud, "Guess that makes things a little bit easier if we ever plan to travel abroad."

"It works," Chrom agreed.

"Guess so," Ian said softly, taking out the journal of the dead mage and began to skim through a few pages.

Chrom looked over as he saw his friend reading the text in his hands, "Already back to strategizing?" he joked.

Ian smiled as he continued to skim, "It's a journal actually. Looks like it was from the guy that knocked you out cold."

"And left you a few bruises," Chrom lightly retorted, laughing. "Think you can read me a few passages? I'm actually kind of curious."

"Sure. But later," Ian stopped walking, the door to Exalt Emmeryn's room stood right before them. "First we need to talk to your older sister."

"Right," Chrom stretched, opening the doors as he walked inside. Ian began to follow, but as he was about to close the journal, a passage caught his eye which contained only one sentence. The passage read:

**_February 15, Year 1619_**

_I found them._

* * *

**Chapter 2 is now done. I apologize for the slow chapter but unfortunately, such chapters are necessary in terms of plot. As for the dates in the guy's journal (I'm very sure you guys know who he is), these are estimates of what I've picked up in my searches, as the timeline in _Awakening _is not specifically mentioned. However, if you guys know of a more specific time frame in which the game is set in, please let me know. Well, if there is anything in this story that can be changed or improved, also let me know about that. Reviews give me a better idea on what I need to work with, but it's also a good boost to morale as well. Anyways, thanks for reading and I'll see you guys next time. **


	4. Chapter 3: Desert Sands

**Hey, everyone. Chapter 3 is finally up. This chapter could have come out a lot sooner, but my school, which works on a quarter system, started just about last week. Been incredibly busy, and I won't lie, updates will come out less often. But nonetheless, I will keep updating. I just want to thank you guys for the reviews so far, it makes me incredibly happy to know that people are actually reading my story and are actually enjoying it. I'll try my best to make this story as good as it possibly can, as well as to improve my writing style. And with that, I thank you guys from the bottom of my heart. Thank you, and I hope you guys enjoy.**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Desert Sands **

Through the early dawn of a sunless morning, a caravan of hooded warriors marched through the desert sands, searching for a prize that existed far beyond their reach.

It was a time for travel and it was a time for thought...

"_Ylisstol… has fallen."_

A gust of wind blew, sending dust into the caravan's face, but the man that lead the group did not flinch as the grains began to fly. His cape whipped violently through the wind and his hood fell as he made his way. Chrom trudged ever quicker through the sands, his hands in a fist as he marched.

"_The Plegians captured your exalt and retreated back across their lines… She is to be executed within the moon."_

Chrom continued his walk.

A couple feet away, Ian and Frederick watched as Chrom kept a consistent pace ahead of the main group, his solitary walk beginning not long after the Shepherds had left camp an hour before. Frederick walked beside his steed as her hoofs struggled through the shifting terrain, the great knight's hand on her reins as he led her forward. Ian kept his hands in his pockets as he scanned the horizon, shivering as the empty wind brushed right through him and onto the group with each passing stroke.

The tactician stopped scanning and watched the back of his friend ahead as they continued their march. He then turned his head towards Frederick and spoke, "I'm worried about him."

Frederick sighed, "The news hit milord hard. He is eager but restless. I just pray his head cools before we reach the capital."

Ian looked back at Chrom, the solitary figure still marching ahead. He then remembered a statement he had made a couple nights before and repeated the phrase, "He is a determined man. Doing what he believes is right, with his family in mind," Ian paused, "...Just like his father."

Frederick gave the tactician an inquisitive look and opened his mouth, but paused and closed it once more. He then let out a slow sigh, "I suppose I shouldn't be all surprised then. He told you, didn't he?" the knight motioned to Chrom.

Ian took off his hood and answered, "Yeah."

Frederick nodded, "I spoke with milord's father a couple of times in the past. Before his… unexpected end. It is true with what you say, he takes after his father in so many ways, but just in as many ways, he is also vastly different," he faced Ian. "It is milord's presence. Something about him that makes him stand apart from the rest. It is not something I can merely describe in words. Though reckless could be one of them," Ian smiled at the remark. "But it is there, the difference is there, it is subtle, but it exists."

Ian nodded as Frederick continued, "I remind myself of that difference almost everyday when I look after those two. And I suppose because of that reminder today leads me to believe that milord will return to himself, even now," Ian smiled as he begun to pick up his pace, and very soon broke into a run after his friend.

Chrom turned when he felt someone slap him on the shoulder, he turned his head to find his white haired friend smirking back at him. The prince gave him a look of annoyance for a second, but then closed his eyes and let out a sigh, shaking his head and smiling once more as his eyes reopened. He lightly punched Ian on the shoulder as the latter chuckled. Chrom chuckled too in response. The two walked in silence for a couple of moments as they looked ahead into the sky. Ian putting his hands back in his pockets and head still facing forward, spoke while he reassured his friend, "Don't worry, Chrom. We'll get her back."

Chrom closed his eyes once again as he inhaled and slowly exhaled, smiling in confidence once more. The orange glow of the morning sun broke through the horizon as his eyes opened, "Yeah… I know we will."

* * *

The two pegasus knights watched as the sun rose in the east and the moon setting in the west; for in that very small span of a moment, the two orbs existed together within the same realm. The lights and glow of the sun formed shades of red etched in pink as it stood to one side of the sky; the luminescence and fade of the blue moon falling to the other. The white clouds of both the sun and the moon danced across the planet's atmosphere as they held the hands of the newborn day and the sleeping night in a marvelous pink. The earth below reflected the eastern and westerly lights across its desert surface; like a child together with their mother and father.

Sumia looked on in awe as she watched the passing of the heavenly lights, mesmerized at the beauty that existed before her. So rare was the sight that even as she rode near the crown of the world, tears formed at the edge of her eyes. She wiped them away as she looked to her side, finding her friend, Cordelia, was just in as much awe as she was.

Sumia smiled to her friend, "Isn't it beautiful? I guess even Plegia can have a beauty such as this."

The wings of the two pegasus continued to flap while Cordelia stroked her own, nodding as she spoke, "Yeah, I guess so…" looking back down to the earth. "I just wish _they_ could be here to see it."

Sumia sighed as she turned back to the changing horizon, "...I know. I wish they were here too," Cordelia turned to her and gave Sumia a strange look as the latter continued to watch the sky. "I may have never met your friends, but they must have meant a lot to you if it makes you feel this way."

Tears formed at Cordelia's eyes for a split second before she blinked them away. She soon brought out a small brass telescope and brought it to her eye, watching the terrain for any movement. Sumia watched as Cordelia looked, and after a couple of moments the red haired knight set the scope down and put it away.

Sumia asked, "What did you see?"

"A spire, about a league away. We should make it there in about an hour if we continue at this pace," Cordelia answered.

Sumia brought out her own scope and saw just that, a rock formation that speared itself into the sky at an altitude that leveled with their own. The brown haired knight set her scope down just as Cordelia began to descend, "Come on, Sumia. Let's head back to the others, report what we find before any Plegians notice the flying pegasus in wyvern territory."

Sumia's face saddened as Cordelia broke off formation. The girl looked back to the horizon, finding that the moon had disappeared and had left behind only the sight of the rising sun. She began her descent, "Oh, Cordelia… I pray you recover soon."

* * *

About an hour later the group reached the spire, finding both safety and shade as they rested beneath the rock's shadow. Ian sat down as he took off his boots, bringing them upsidedown as large piles of sand began to trickle out. Realizing how nice it felt being barefoot at the moment, the tactician leaned back and yawned, deciding to take a short nap on the slab of rock he sat upon as he brought his hands together behind his head.

After a couple moments of peace, a girlish voice woke him up, "Boy, you sure like taking naps on the ground."

Keeping his eyes shut, the tactician answered back, "Don't hate it before you try it. It's actually pretty comfortable down here, Lissa."

Lissa gave Ian a sheepish look as he continued in his attempt to sleep. The young princess then grabbed a handful of sand and dropped the piles on the tactician's face. Ian immediately sat up as he wiped away at the sand, spitting when a few grains found their way into his mouth, "What in blazes was that for?" he yelled.

Lissa gave Ian a large grin, "I thought it would be funny… and it was."

Ian continued spitting, "Damn it! Why can't you let me sleep in peace?"

"Because I'm bored," Lissa answered. She then brought forward a jug of water, "Thirsty?" Ian gave Lissa a weary look as he slowly grabbed the jug. He brought the pitcher to his lips as he began to rinse, pausing for a moment as he contemplated whether to spit the water out or to swallow. He gave a mental sigh as he went with the latter option, the grains of sand traveling with the liquid.

Lissa smiled, "Better?" Ian grumbled as he gave back the pitcher and crossed his arms.

Lissa then put her hand on Ian's head and began to pat his hair, "There, there. It wasn't that bad."

"Why do you do this to me?" Ian asked rhetorically. Lissa laughed as she continued to pat his head.

Chrom walked around the corner of the spire, turning around to find his younger sister annoying a fuming Ian. He smiled at the sight, "Lissa picking on you again, Ian?"

Ian nodded. "He looks kind of like Lon'qu right now, doesn't he, Chrom?" Lissa remarked.

Chrom laughed as Ian continued to sit, evoking a "Not funny," response from the young man. Chrom sat down next to Ian and let out a heavy breath, just as exhausted from the march as everyone else, "So, how long until we reach the capital?"

Ian reached for his boots as he decided to put them back on, answering as he did so, "At the rate we're going at, we'll probably reach there around late afternoon, early evening. Don't like the idea of marching under this dreaded sun however."

Chrom nodded, "We were told Emm would be executed within the moon, so time is of the essence. We need to get there as soon as possible, sun or no."

"We're going to get sis back," Lissa spoke with a determined look on her face.

Ian brought out a couple of documents and laid them out in front of them, "Miriel let me borrow some of these, and from what I can see, Plegia's castle, much like Ylisstol's, lies in the very back of the capital. A frontal assault is out of the question, so we'll have to attack from the rear."

"They'll expect an attack from behind though, they know no one is foolish enough to go for a straight on assault," Chrom replied.

Ian nodded, "That's true. Without a doubt they'll be expecting us, but…" he paused.

Chrom waited a moment then raised an eyebrow, "But…?"

"Remember that day when Gangrel declared war on Ylisse? Well, what was he demanding for the entire time?"

"He wanted the Fire Emblem but Emm wouldn't give it to him," Chrom answered then paused once more as he thought, looking down as he put his finger to his lip. His head slowly shifted up in realization, "So that's what the trap is for."

"Mmhmm," Ian confirmed. "Normally during wartime, or even peacetime for that matter, a country patrols their borders in case of an attack. And even though we were very careful to sneak into Plegia unnoticed, none of us has spotted even one patrol. No ground patrol and no air patrol. Nothing."

Chrom was silent as he picked up a pile of sand and dropped it again in the same spot, repeating this motion once or twice, "Damn. I'd like to believe that it was our cunning that got us this far without being spotted," he turned to Ian. "They must all be at the capital waiting for us then."

Ian nodded in agreement, "Nonetheless, it's still a desert, so mobility is not going to our strong suit. A majority of their forces are going to be air combatants in order to have the speed and air advantage over us."

"But that also means they'll be more delicate. Fliers have a hard time fighting multiple opponents at once," Chrom added.

"We'll have to create a defensive wall: Those that can block their attacks will be on the outer rim. Mages and archers in the center. It would be suicide for their air units to go for the middle," Ian wrote down. "We'll be slow and we'll be an easy target. So I advise staying away from the castle ramparts until we reach the courtyard," Ian made little markings in the sand. "Once all of their fliers are dealt with, we'll send Cordelia, Sumia, and two of our most capable fighters to deal with their ranged units on the ramparts. The rest of us will go through the front gates to fight off their ground forces," Ian finished drawing. "At that point we should have the advantage and all will be straightforward from there."

Chrom nodded slowly as he went over the plan again in his head, thinking for a bit, "Will it be enough to get Emm out of there alive? There could be another trap in there we haven't thought of."

"If there is," Ian started putting the documents and notes away, "Then the best we can do is prepare for the worst. I may be good at strategizing but I can't read minds. There may be more things I haven't thought of. I'll come up with a few more ideas on our way there."

Chrom gave a soft smile, "I trust you, Ian. We couldn't have gotten this far without you. Whatever plan you come up with, I'll gladly follow."

Ian smiled back, "Thank you, Chrom."

"Me too!" Lissa jumped in as she went back to patting Ian on his head.

Chrom laughed as the two resumed their antics, but was soon cut short when Frederick walked in on the scene. The three turned their heads to the great knight as he began to speak, "Milord, our scouts report some manner of engagement downfield."

Chrom looked to Ian then back to Frederick, "Engagement? The Feroxi troops are still quite a ways behind us."

"Actually, milord," Frederick spoke, "It would appear the combatants are neither traditional Plegian nor Feroxi soldiers. Certainly not Ylissean either."

"Could be a random skirmish then," Ian suggested.

Chrom got up, "Whatever it is, we'll check it out. See if we can help."

"Are you sure, milord?" Frederick asked. "Going into an unnecessary fight can both exhaust our forces and needlessly slow down our trip to the capital."

Chrom looked at Ian who was standing up as well, "It's your call, Chrom."

Chrom nodded in response, "That it is. Come on, let's check it out."

* * *

Chrom, Ian, and Frederick walked over to a sand dune occupied by Gaius and Lon'qu. The two scouts looking downrange toward the situation below. Gaius looked behind him when Chrom approached, the former pointing over the dune, "It's over this ridge. Seems like less of fight and more of a chase, really," Chrom walked over to the top of the ridge as everyone began to watch the scene before them.

A young girl with greenish blonde hair that appeared to be around the age of ten was being chased by a much older looking man with light brown hair. As the girl ran she kept picking up piles of sand and throwing them back into the man's face. Eventually on the third throw the man tripped as he reached to block the grains and the little girl sprinted away as fast as she could. The group continued to watch as the girl rounded the corner of a large boulder, reaching for her knees and gasping for air in exhaustion. Eventually the man caught up to her and the girl screamed, throwing sand at him once again.

Everyone watched the shouting match, with Lissa leaning over to Chrom and asking, "What's going on?"

"Is this some sort of comedic act?" Ian asked, scratching his head.

"I'm not entirely sure…" Gaius replied. "Is… this suppose to be funny?" his eyes switching back and forth between Chrom and the others.

"...and some big weirdo is trying to kill me!" came a yell from the young girl, the sound of her screaming traveling over the long distance.

Chrom sighed as he inched himself a little bit closer to the edge of the dune, "Well, if it's a joke, it's not a very funny one," he cupped his hands together and set them to his mouth, "Hey you there! Fiend! Keeps your hands off that maiden!"

The man's head suddenly perked up as he heard Chrom yell, with the young girl now proceeding to kick sand at the man's feet, "Who is fiend? ...You mean Gregor? No, friend! You have idea wrong!"

Lissa walked up next to Chrom and cupped her hands as well, shouting back, "Yeah right! Creep!" Ian, Gaius, and Lon'qu watched with uneasy looks on their faces as they watched the shouting match between Chrom, Lissa, and the brown haired man. Frederick simply closed his eyes and slowly shook his head.

The man yelled back, looking a bit saddened at the situation, "This day has been nothing but insults and- OOF!" The man knelt over as the young girl punched him in the stomach. "...and punches to groin..." he groaned. "And all for doing good deed!" he turned to the girl who was about to begin another fury of punches, "Wait! Listen, friend! Gregor only want to-!"

The winds surrounding the area began to blow, kicking up the ground into a sandy torrent. The dry air blew past the brown haired man as he looked back, covering his face from the sands. The young girl screamed and the Shepherds shielded their eyes as well. An intense swishing sound was made as the wind rushed passed their ears.

Ian used his arms to shield himself from the sands, but through the swishing of the winds, he heard another sound. Something akin to that of a soft whisper. With his right arm still covering his face, Ian's left hand slowly moved up to his ear and softly touched it, still hearing the quiet talking.

The winds subsided and the whispers Ian heard slowly faded away. Everyone looked up.

There was a wall of sand and black silhouettes began to emerge from the haze. Men in black cloaks on horseback stepped forward, their lances facing the sky. On foot emerged other hooded individuals, their heads facing down as they appeared unarmed. In the center of the group stood an old woman with a cover and cloth that shielded the back of her neck from the desert sun; a grotesquely shaped, wooden staff in her hands.

The Shepherds watched as the unknown group faced the man and the young girl. Two of the men on horseback slowly began stepping forward, but soon broke into a run as they brought their lances forward.

Everyone back at the dune watched in horror as the horses quickly covered the distance despite the shifting sands. The distance between the ridge they stood upon and the two individuals below was too great.

"Frederick!" a yell came from behind. Everyone turned their heads as they found Sumia atop her pegasus galloping towards them, her hand reaching out towards the great knight as he instinctively grabbed ahold and jumped on. The two rushed ahead while everyone watched in awe.

Sumia's pegasus cut through the wind as they made their way to the man and the young girl. The winged beast dive bombed toward the earth and Frederick jumped off, yelling as he brought his lance through the chest of the first rider. Sumia brought her pegasus around and rammed her lance through the back of the second horseman. The two Shepherds recovered and nodded toward each other as they took their stances, facing the opposing forces.

The Shepherds that stood upon the ridge were in shock at what they had just witnessed. Lissa questioned aloud, "Frederick?"

The shock on Chrom's face faded and he slowly smirked, shaking his head, "Never thought you'd throw caution to the wind like that, Frederick."

Cordelia then appeared on the dune behind them, a frantic look on the pegasus knight's face, "Excuse me, but have any of you seen where Sumia is?"

Everyone looked at each other and Ian slowly answered, "She's on the field right now. She and Frederick are facing the enemy as we speak."

"What?" Cordelia's face paled. "Why is she…? Did you order her to…?"

"No," Chrom answered. "She took the initiative on her own," he placed his hand on Cordelia's shoulder. "Guess she is becoming more confident."

Cordelia blushed.

Chrom then turned to Ian and called his name. The tactician nodded, facing Gaius and Lon'qu, "Gather everyone together. We have a fight on our hands. Tell them to move quickly, everyone is to meet at the bottom of this dune, right now," The two men departed and Ian looked back at Chrom.

Chrom stared back, "Time to test that strategy of yours."

Ian nodded and slowly exhaled, "Yeah. Yes it is."

* * *

The Shepherds stood in formation at the bottom of the giant sand dune, watching as the unknown forces charged at Frederick, Sumia, the man, and the young girl several hundred yards ahead of them. Ian turned toward the assembled group, "We need to regroup with Frederick and Sumia! Once we reach them, I want everyone to create a defensive wall around our mages and archers. We will make our way over to the opposing forces as they try to break themselves against us," he turned to the field, ready to run, "Move as fast as you can!"

Chrom lifted Falchion into the air, "Alright! Let's move!" Every one of the Shepherds broke into a run, screaming at the top of their lungs.

* * *

Sumia and Frederick turned around when they heard the war cries, the pegasus knight smiled to herself, "Cavalry's coming."

Frederick nodded, his lance still pointing forward, "Then we will hold our position until they get here," he turned to Sumia and smiled, "Though I never thought you'd be so bold."

Sumia smiled back in response, "Just trying to be more useful. Help out Chrom in any way I can," she looked away, "It's what I'm learning from you."

Frederick stared at her in astonishment, but then looked back at the charging forces, gripping his lance tighter.

"Gregor and little girl will help!" the brown hair man yelled.

The two Shepherds turned around with Frederick raising his eyebrow, "The little girl?"

"Ah!" Gregor confirmed. "Little girl is actually not so little. Not what you be expecting!"

Frederick and Sumia turned to the girl who held a small blue orb in her hand. The pink in her eyes changed to that of a flaming green. Her back stretched back as her body exploded into a mist of colours, replaced by a large golden dragon mixed with emerald green. The dragon roared into the sky.

The man grinned as he unsheathed his sword, "She is manakete! Let them make with the breaking against us now!"

Frederick and Sumia stared in awe. The young woman letting out a resounding, "Huh…"

* * *

The charging Shepherds watched from afar as they ran towards their comrades, the sight of the dragon appearing out of nowhere caused a couple of them to hesitate.

"What the hell?" Ian breathed. "That girl is a dragon!"

"By the gods, she a manakete!" Chrom exclaimed. "I'd never thought I'd see one!"

"Looks like she doesn't need as much help as we thought she did!" Ian yelled.

"But I'm willing to bet we'll need hers!" Chrom replied. "Let's keep moving!"

The two groups finally met one another, regrouping into a defensive wall against the charging cavalier. The opposing rider's lances bounced off the armour of the forward knights; the Shepherds smashing back as Ian, Ricken, Miriel, and Virion shot their artillery into the air.

The hooded figures by the old woman then straightened their backs as they took out their tomes. Beginning their fire towards the slow moving wall as their rider brethren fell. The Shepherds watched as the wave of spells headed in their direction, the dangerously varied power of the elements threatening to rip the armored wall apart.

"Hold!" Ian yelled over the sound of the whistling artillery. The spells smashed against the armored Shepherds; explosions came as the knights screamed. Smoke filled the air.

The dust finally cleared after a couple of seconds, the sound of coughing Shepherds filled the air. They barely had any time to recover when they heard the whistle of a second volley. Ian yelled as he shot a ball of fire into the air, "Disperse! Now!"

The wall disappeared as the armored Shepherds teleported from the field one by one, leaving those left behind to run or duck for cover. Ian ran forward throwing fireballs into the air, sliding with his knees to a small sand dune for cover. He screamed, "Cordelia! Sumia! Take them out!"

Gaius jumped aboard Sumia's pegasus and Lon'qu with Cordelia. The four rushed forward toward the magi line, taking the heat off the exposed Shepherds. Gregor watched from a distance and turned to the manakete and waved his arms, "Oi! Little girl!"

The dragon turned her head, her voice rippling through the air, "Huh?"

"I know you no trust Gregor, but friends need our help!" he pointed toward the pegasus riders. "We move with them!"

The dragon girl paused for a moment as she hovered over the sands, then enthusiastically replied, "Okay!"

Gregor jumped aboard the dragon's back and pulled out his sword and pointed it into the air, screaming, "Let us go!" The pair rushed forward, aiding in the attack on the distracted magi.

Chrom looked up as the volley of spells lessened, turning to Ian who was ahead of him and the tactician looked back, yelling his name, "Chrom!"

The prince nodded and stood back up, yelling as well, "Recover!" All the Shepherds within the vicinity stood back up, taking their weapons back out as Chrom pointed his in the air, "Move!" The charge began once more, the screaming more intense as the warriors seeked retribution for the hellfire they endured. Gaius, Sumia, Cordelia, Lon'qu, Nowi, and Gregor continued to distract the mages as they moved fiercely through their ranks, cutting each of them down with a savage fury. The rest of the Shepherds arrived, soon crushing any survivors.

The old woman remained, standing still as the rest of her comrades fell. Her right hand gripping her staff as she pulled out a tome with her left. The Shepherds stood cautiously still, sweat dripping down their brows as they faced the unflinching woman.

She began to chant.

The winds in the region began to pick up at a violent pace, threatening to throw all who stood off their feet. The pegasus knights struggled against the winds as they tried to reach the ground. The skies began to darken and a marvelous sand storm formed behind the woman, rushing forward at incredible speeds and devouring all those that stood within its path.

Every one of the Shepherds struggled forward, each step taking tremendous effort as they inched their way forward toward the woman several yards away.

Ian yelled as he pulled out a tome, but the violent winds quickly ripped the book out of his hands as it disappeared in the background. The tactician's eyes widened in horror as he watched the rushing sandstorm, and within a couple moment's time, each and every one of them would be buried alive. He screamed in frustration.

From out of the blue, the dragon flew overhead with Gregor gripping tightly onto her wing, the two screaming at the top of their lungs as they neared the woman.

A ball of light formed in the dragon's mouth.

The sandstorm stood fifty yards away from the old woman.

Gregor yelled, "FIRE!" and the ball of energy flew from the manakete's mouth.

The old woman looked to the sky and screamed, "Grima!"

The sandstorm reached forward, engulfing the woman's back.

There was an explosion of light and a scream of agony echoed with the winds.

...And for a moment time stood still.

The power that urged the sandstorm forward suddenly died. The titan of sand collapsed as it toppled forward, crashing into the earth beneath its feet. Everyone that stood before it tried to run, but despite its shrinkage, the natural colossus still stood at several hundred feet.

Those furthest away from the dying sand were able to run away from the scene. But the sands still fell, and those that weren't fast enough or too close to the wave were buried beneath the dying corpse. Ian covered his face in a pathetic attempt to protect himself. His sight and hearing became numb.

* * *

The tactician gasped for air as he finally awoke, the sight of Sully and Maribelle leaning over him and the desert sun rushing between the two.

Sully, who looked incredibly beat from the artillery, turned her head and yelled, "Hey! We finally found him!" Ian began coughing uncontrollably.

Maribelle patted him on the back, "There, there now. You're alive. Come, sit up, Ian. Let that air in. Breathe," she gently watched over him as she kneeled at his side, her staff on the ground a few inches away. Sweat covered the noblewoman's face, but even then, she kept a dignified look about her.

Ian coughed, almost of the verge of choking, "Agh… rah! Tsuha… Is everyone…. hah… Is everyone alright?" the man coughing once more.

"Yes," Maribelle answered, still patting his back, "Everyone is fine. You were the last one we dug up."

Ian eventually stopped coughing, unable to speak as he slowly nodded. Maribelle handed him a waterskin and Ian drank as quickly as he could, breaking into another fit of coughs once again.

"Not so quickly," Maribelle warned. "Even in a moment like this, it is very much uncouth to drink in such a manner," Ian grunted.

Chrom rushed up to him, a look of relief on his face, "Ian! Are you alright?"

Ian nodded as he tried to stand up, "Yeah…"

Chrom grabbed his friend's hand as he pulled him back to his feet. He waited for a moment as Ian tried to regain his breath, "Looks like it worked."

Ian recovered, "To a degree. It didn't exactly worked out as planned," he paused. "I need to work out the kinks. We almost died out there."

Chrom nodded and placed his hand on Ian's shoulder, "Almost. But we didn't. Don't be too hard on yourself, it worked out as well as it could despite being only a rough draft," Ian nodded and turned his head to face the two figures of the brown haired man and the young girl in the distance, Chrom followed his gaze. "The guy's name is Gregor. He's a mercenary for hire. High price but he's skilled. He'll be coming along with us."

Ian nodded, "Right..."

Chrom continued, "The young girl, as we found out, is a manakete. Her name is Nowi. She will also be helping us in our journey."

Ian continued to watch the two, "Looks like the two of them made up?"

"Yeah," Chrom confirmed. "Looks like it was all a big misunderstanding. Nowi thought Gregor was trying to kidnap her and sell her on the black market, turns out he was just helping her escape. Funny how things work out."

Ian nodded once more, "Yeah…" he faced Chrom. "So who were those guys?"

Chrom looked back at the bloody bodies that strewn about the field, half buried in the sand. He solemnly answered, "Grimleal."

"What?" Ian asked. "You mean like the ones from the documents?"

"Mmhmm," Chrom replied. "I'll tell you more about what we found out on the trip to the capital. Despite our injuries we need to keep pressing on. The execution will be starting soon."

"Damn it," Ian muttered. He exhaled, "You're right, we need to keep moving. Let's head back to camp, gather our things. We wasted enough time as it is."

Chrom nodded, "C'mon, let's hurry."

Ian began to follow Chrom, but turned his head when he again heard the sounds of a soft whisper, "Can you repeat that, Chrom?"

Chrom turned back to Ian, a tad confused, "I didn't say anything."

"Huh…" Ian muttered.

_...They're coming!_

"I probably just have sand stuck in my ear then."

_...Go! We'll act as rearguard. Go back to the capital! Protect it at all costs!_

"Come on, let's go," Ian continued his walk with Chrom back to the camp.

The Shepherds all walked back to camp, along with their two new members. Their bodies ached, but they were ready to resume their journey. Through the valley of the desert that bled of death.

_...Thank you… And good luck. We won't forget this sacrifice..._

* * *

**Despite my busy schedule, this chapter had been incredibly fun to write. I understand there are a few discrepancies in this chapter. Such as the final boss in the level this chapter takes places in is actually male. I initially tried to write the boss as a male, but looking at their portrait, I just couldn't. Looks too much like an old woman for me to write as a male, so I just changed their gender. I also enjoyed writing with some of the focus on the other Shepherds as opposed to just Ian. Brings out a bit more variety. So, there we go. Hope you enjoyed and I'll see you guys next time. **


	5. Chapter 4: Sacrifice

**Hello again, everyone. I apologize sincerely. It has been about a month since my last update and for most of that month this story has been left mostly untouched. School plus work has been exceptionally draining in which I'm out from six in the morning to seven in the evening everyday. And when I finally do get home, I have nothing but homework waiting for me. So yeah. Again, I'm sorry. There's my pity sob story. In other words, this chapter took a long time to write but was a lot of fun as well. A warning before hand, there is a bit of fairly violent scenes in this chapter. I hope you enjoy. **

* * *

**Chapter 4: Sacrifice **

Nine figures stood in a darkened room, their heads facing downwards with their eyes closed as they chanted a quiet prayer. There was a body of a late priest covered in a sheet that laid in the middle of the room. A young woman was kneeling by the passing man, her eyes closed as she sniffled, her hand holding her dead friend's hand.

"...thank you, Naga, for all you have done and for all you have continued to do. May Erik spend everlasting peace in your heaven and in your grace... Thank you," a bald, dark skinned priest softly spoke. "And in Naga's name we pray, amen."

"Amen," everyone in the room spoke.

"...Amen," the young cleric by the man quietly let out. There was a moment of pause when she finally stood up, trying to wipe away her tears as she continued to sniffle. Another female priest with dark hair walked up to the still crying woman, turned her around and embraced her. Her hand stroking the crying woman's long, blonde hair as the latter cried into her shoulder.

"It's alright, Leah. It's alright," the woman soothingly spoke.

Leah continued to cry, "H-he was the fifth one to go, Naomi. It has only been a day and half of us are already gone. Kaiden, Hannah, Amelia, Glenn, and now... Erik…" her hands gripped Naomi's clothing. She sniffled, "...They're all gone."

Naomi continued to rub Leah's back as the bald headed priest stepped forward, placing his hand on Leah's shoulder. Leah looked up as she turned her head towards him, the man giving her a soft smile, "They're not truly gone, Leah. They're still with us, they're just watching us from heaven's gates. That's all."

Leah sniffed once more, "...Yeah," The others in the room watched Leah as she tried to wipe away her tears, staring because she was the only one brave enough to show how they all truly felt.

A short, blonde haired boy stared intently at Erik's body on the floor, his hands clenched in a fist as he bit his lip. Thoughts ran through his head, thoughts on how much they had lost in so little time. The incredibly beautiful Amelia who could charm an entire room with her songs. The plain, yet humble Hannah who cooked up the tastiest of recipes. The tall and kind Kaiden who along with his wife would spend entire days helping the villages. The boastful and comedic Glenn, a person you wouldn't imagine as a priest but could always turn the gloomiest of rooms into that full of dying laughter minutes later.

"_Something we'd need right now," _the boy thought.

And finally the troublesome but adventurous Erik, a man the young boy looked up to. A man known for always getting into trouble by climbing the church bell tower in order to skip service and for constantly talking about how he planned to one day join the Shepherds.

* * *

"_Hey, Aaron!" _

"_Erik?"_

"_You know how I'm always talking about traveling and seeing what excitement life has in store for me?"_

"_Um… alright?" _

"_Well, I've been thinking. A life full of adventure isn't exactly something you can just jump into. If you want to see the world, you'll have look at all the little details first. Get an appreciation of what life has to offer. Smell the flowers along the way so to speak. So, I was thinking of starting small, but in a big way. I'm planning on joining Ylisse's most famous Shepherds!" _

"_The Shepherds? Erik, are you crazy? Joining the Shepherds isn't something you can exactly jump into either!"_

"_I admit, it won't be easy. So that's why I'll need a partner. And Aaron, I want you to be that partner!"_

"_Y-you want me to join the Shepherds? With you? But what about the church?"_

"_Oh, they'll be fine. Right now we have a calling! And the Shepherds right now is that calling! So, Aaron, what do you say? Will you join me in this most glorious of quests... partner?"_

"_Partner…? Erik… you know. I mean you're always so out there, it's almost like nothing runs through your head. You never seem to think what the consequences might do. But... you know what? I guess the same goes for me. Let's do it!" _

"_Excellent! Apparently we're at war with Plegia right now. So once the Shepherds come back from Regna Ferox with reinforcements, off we'll go! Off to become Shepherds! Both you and me!"_

* * *

Aaron's nails dug deeper into his palms as he began to choke back tears. He gritted his teeth as he quietly spoke, "Damn it… Erik. Why did you have to die? We were supposed to join the Shepherds together. You said we were… you said we were..." Aaron slowly stopped, unable to finish his sentence as tears began to slide down his face. His world at that moment was shattered. The young priest cried in silence but soon stopped when he felt the warmth of someone's hand grasping onto his left shoulder.

Aaron looked up, staring into the face of his friend Libra, an incredibly beautiful man with long, silky, blonde hair and a face that could have been akin to that of angels. Libra stared down at the young priest, his hand resting firm against the boy's shoulder while at the same moment saying nothing. Aaron looked at his friend's hand as it reassured him, and with his own, reached up to grasp it.

Libra's hand grasped Aaron's shoulder and Aaron's hand grasped Libra's arm. It was that connection through simple touch that brought slight comfort to the boy, with the death of Erik still very much on his mind.

They stood there for a moment until Aaron finally looked back up, squeezed Libra's hand and said, "Thank you... I'm fine."

"Are you sure, Aaron?" Libra asked.

"Yeah…" Aaron's hand let go. "Not entirely, but… yeah…"

The two stood in silence once more, watching as Leah try to recover, wiping the tears from her face and getting some of her bearing back. Watching as Naomi stood by, ready to comfort her friend once more should she need to. Watching just how Isaac, Joanna, and Chance stood by in a somber silence just how they were. How the Plegian owner of the house who worshipped Naga grasped his own hands in front of him, quietly nodding. Everyone stood and watched, watching the invisible silence and hearing the drum of their quiet heartbeats.

Eventually the dark, bald headed priest broke the quiet as everyone turned to him. He coughed, "Alright, everyone. It's getting late. We'll leave Erik's body on the floor for now. As for the rest of us, we should get some sleep too."

"Are you sure we should leave his body there, Adam?" Naomi asked. "We could er... lay him on one of the beds."

"No," Adam replied. "You'll need those beds more than him. Besides, that'll be his resting spot for now. He picked it before he… before he…" he paused. "I'd rather not disturb him," Adam let out.

Naomi sighed, "Alright then…" she looked at Erik's body. "It just seems disrespectful I suppose."

"I know," Adam agreed, but let out a small smile. "But, I don't think Erik minds. He would have said it was just like camping anyways," Naomi let out a quiet chuckle and nodded.

"Adam, are we still following through with the plan tomorrow morning?" Isaac asked.

Adam turned to the green haired priest and then looked toward Erik's unbreathing body and let out a slow sigh, "We may have lost half of our friends on the way here, and it wouldn't do them justice if we were to turn tail and run now. But yes, the plan still stands. We'll arrive at the castle courtyard just before the break of dawn. That time the Exalt will be let out of captivity and we'll have a better chance of rescuing her. Just make sure you aren't seen."

Joanna spoke up, "Will the Shepherds be there?" Aaron's head perked up. "Prince Chrom is the Exalt's younger brother. Surely they'll try to rescue her as well."

Adam nodded, "Without a doubt. They're probably right on the outskirts of the capital as we speak. If we manage to rescue the Exalt, we'll pass her along to them to keep her safe."

"Do you want me to head out now and tell them we're in the capital? A joint effort is better than two separate groups," Chance suggested.

"No, you idiot," Naomi turned to him. "We don't even know if they're here or not, plus it's dangerous out there, especially at night."

Chance grinned at her, "Well, sometimes in life you just gotta take a... chance."

Leah spoke up before Naomi could respond, "Shut up…" she smiled, wiping away her tears.

Everyone smiled as well, "Hey, you recovered," Isaac said.

Leah looked back to the floor, "I-I wouldn't say I did. Not yet anyways… but... I still miss them so."

Libra walked up, "Of course you do. We'd expect nothing less from the extremely kind-hearted Leah herself."

Leah smiled in response, "Thank you, Libra."

The Plegian man turned to Adam and quietly spoke up, "It's still pretty late. I suggest turning to bed. You all have a big day tomorrow."

Adam sighed as he gave a nod, "Aye, that we do. And again, thank you for taking us into your home, Castillo. We know it's not easy for you."

Castillo shook it off, "Don't worry. I've already spent my time mourning. And I've learned to finally move on," he gave a small smile.. "They're with Naga now…"

Adam exhaled and bowed his head, then turned toward the group, "Alright then. If there aren't any more questions, we'll do one more prayer then we'll head off to bed. We'll be working before sunrise and we'll need our rest," he turned to Aaron. "Aaron, do you wish to lead the prayer tonight?"

"M-me?" Aaron stammered. "Um… alright. I'll try to do my best." Adam smiled as everyone bowed their heads. "Dear heavenly father…"

From outside the window of the home, were two Plegian scouts crouching on the roof of a neighboring building, noting down the conversation they had just heard from inside. Once the prayer was finished and all of the priests retired to their sleeping quarters, the scouts packed up their things and ran off into the night. Returning to the castle to relay the information of the upcoming operation.

* * *

Moonlight filled the room as it entered the old Plegian home. From the dusty windows the beams entered and angled themselves onto the floor, illuminating the dust as they glittered through their small, humble stage.

The glittering dust existed in the middle of the room, in between two beds that held the still bodies of Libra and Aaron. Libra was sound asleep as Aaron laid in his own bed, his arms at his sides as he stared up at the ceiling. The quiet night becoming an unbearable peace for the young man. He tilted his head upon his pillow and looked toward the window, staring at the spectacle of light and dust dancing in the darkness.

Aaron fidgeted in his bed, constantly taking the covers off of his body and putting them back on. His heart pounding slightly harder than normal in consistency as he struggled to sleep.

But eventually he stopped, his body uncovered by the sheets as he stared back up at the ceiling. His chest slowly rising up and down again as he breathed. The boy then slipped out of his bed and walked over to the window, staring at the full moon as it stared back at him. Standing there in silence while all the same thinking of nothing.

Aaron presently felt no fear, but yet, deep in the back of his consciousness his mind was numb, he cowered at the thought of death. The nagging feeling that this night would be his last.

He heard Libra stir behind him as Aaron looked back, finding his friend sitting up from his bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he stared back him. There was a small awkward silence while the two priests stared back at one another; Aaron opened and closed his fists as he stood by the window, and Libra stretched in his bed.

The quiet eventually broke when Libra softly asked, "Are you alright?"

Aaron slowly nodded.

Libra sighed and tried to give a soft smile, shifting in his bed as he struggled to speak, "...There are a lot of things in my life that I am not proud of. Things in my life such as where I'm from, where I've been, and who I am. And while pride be a sin, if I am able to redeem myself tomorrow morning when the Exalt is finally safe…" Libra stared into Aaron's eyes, "That… will be a sin I'll gladly accept."

Aaron stared as his friend continued to speak, "Find something to pride yourself in, pray for this one exception, and tomorrow we'll make it through," Libra smiled, "Do not worry. Pray. And we'll make it through."

Aaron thought to himself after Libra spoke, staring at the moonlight shining on the floor, "_Find my pride, pray, and we'll make it through…"_ He looked up and smiled, his shoulders slowly easing. "_And we'll make it through…"_

"Thank you."

Libra nodded his head, "You're welcome. Now, go to bed, we still have a few more hours. I'll wake you when it's time."

Aaron thanked Libra once more as he climbed back under his covers, staring back at the ceiling as he closed his eyes. His head enjoying the softness of the pillow, feeling the harmony akin to that of a final peace.

He inhaled and then exhaled, opening his eyes slightly once more as he watched the dust dance under the light beams in the dark. Sleep slowly and eventually engulfing the young boy.

* * *

"Spread out. Don't clump together, have your presence be as low as possible," Adam whispered to the group before they all dispersed.

Aaron watched the spread out triangle as he walked in the rear at the base of the formation. His eyes by this point had grown accustomed to the dark as he found Libra with his axe a couple feet away to his left and Leah with her staff about equal distance to the right. Aaron fidgeted with his sword as he scanned his surroundings, pulling the blade out partially and then returning it to the scabbard. Performing this action over and over again.

Naomi, who was about ten feet ahead of Aaron turned around and quietly hushed him, "Aaron, shh! Be quiet. I can hear your sword from over here."

"Sorry," the boy apologized, taking his hand off the hilt. "Just a little nervous."

Naomi sighed and slowly nodded, "It's alright. We all are. Just… just keep it down, alright?"

"Yes, Naomi," Aaron whispered as he looked toward Libra. The war monk turned to him and gave the boy a reassuring smile, mouthing out the words, "Don't worry."

Aaron slowly nodded as he begun to think to himself, "_Find my pride. What makes me proud?" _His thoughts turned to Erik and his enthusiasm to become a part of the Shepherds. The boy nodded once more to himself as he felt a smile tug at the upper corners of his lips, "_The Shepherds. I'll continue your legacy, Erik. Let me pride myself in continuing that," _Aaron uttered a quiet prayer to himself as he spoke of his choice. Feeling a little bit better as he watched his friends around him.

For about half an hour no one spoke as they watched the growing silhouette of a night fallen castle in the distance.

Adam turned his head and spoke to the group behind him, "Mentally prepare yourselves, everyone. We're almost there," A roar was heard from above and everyone looked up, finding a vague triangular shape flying above them.

"Get down!" Adam ordered, still trying to maintain his whisper. Everyone did just that as they plopped their stomachs onto the sand, holding their breaths as the wyvern flew overhead.

The shadow of the winged lizard stood as a darker, more sinister figure against the sky, the flap of its wings echoed to the cowering group despite the incredible distance in altitude. The wyvern moved at an incredibly slow pace as it lazily flew through the sky, turning its body over as its right wing dipped toward the earth.

Joanna gasped, "It has a rider on it," everyone held their breath as they looked fearfully into the sky, the wyvern roared once more as it paralleled itself back to the horizon.

Aaron heard quick whispers from Leah as she quietly prayed to herself, the fear in his heart rising as she spoke.

"Please don't see us… Please don't see us… Oh, gods, please don't see us…"

Aaron bit his lip, closed his eyes, and lowered his face into the sand.

After several, slow agonizing minutes, the sounds of the winged beast quieted as it seemingly disappeared off into the distance.

Chance turned his head up when he no longer heard the rider above them, twisting his body back as he tried to find out where the wyvern had disappeared off to.

"Chance, stay down," Isaac spoke through his teeth, his friend cursed in response as he turned his body back to the sand.

The wyvern soon returned, roaring above them as the rider decided to fly once more over their position. Aaron felt like his heart was going to explode in anticipation when he looked over at Libra, his friend's eyes closed and teeth clenched as his lips moved rapidly in a silent prayer.

After several more minutes the silhouette grew smaller and smaller as it made its way back to the shadowed castle. The distant echo of a roar fading into the night.

Everyone stayed where they were and slowly let out theirs breaths. Quietly inhaling and exhaling.

Adam turned back to the group and told them to get back up. Everyone did just that as they brushed the sand off their bodies, anxiously looking around for any signs of a second flier.

"Do you think he saw us?" Naomi quietly asked.

"Don't know," Adam responded, his breath heavy. "Come on, let's keep going."

The group continued to walk through the darkened desert, their minds still scrambled from the potential spotting. The shape of the castle grew larger and larger as they got closer to their destination. Their hearts pounding quicker with each step.

* * *

Everyone stood by the castle walls, their legs sore as they gave themselves a quick moment to rest. Adam looked at the moon as it slowly set toward the horizon. They only had half an hour's worth of time left. He turned to Chance, "You ready?"

Chance took out a crossbow and a grappling hook and grinned, "Always ready."

"Alright," Adam nodded, "We don't have a lot of time. Make sure it's safe up there first before you go."

"Yeah, yeah," Chance waved it off. The blonde haired priest aimed his bow and fired the projectile over the rampart walls, a satisfying clink was heard when the grapple made contact.

Chance tugged on the rope for a bit to check the slack. Once he was satisfied it was safe to proceed, he began his climb up the fifty foot wall.

Everyone watched as the most agile member of the group climbed the wall as quickly as he could, but when he reached the halfway point, a familiar roar was heard and everyone's hearts sank.

Chance frantically looked around when he felt a brush of wind moved past him.

The roar was heard again.

Chance looked behind himself as he rotated his head to the right. The wind brushed him once more in the opposite direction and his eyes widened in fear. The wyvern rider flew past the blonde haired priest as he stared him in the eye; the rider giving him a stiff upper lip.

The fear on Chance's face instantly changed to anger and determination when he looked back at the rope and began to climb even quicker.

Panic and fear flashed across Adam's face as he yelled up at his friend, "Chance! Stop! Get back down now! They know!"

"Not yet!" he responded, "I'm almost there!"

"Chance!" Naomi yelled.

"Shut up!" Chance angrily responded. "I got this! I'm almost-!" he froze when he stared past the last couple feet of rope; a mage stood at the top of the grapple. The mage stared down at Chance with a curious look on his face, but soon broke into a maleficent smile. A ball of flame then appeared in his right hand.

Chance clenched his teeth as his heart suddenly froze. He quietly whispered, "Oh, gods..."

The mage let the flames loose and Chance screamed in agony. His hands instinctively reached for his face as he let go of the rope. His body was in a freefall before he realized his mistake.

Everyone's face was in horror as Leah screamed, "Chance!"

Chance's back cracked loudly when he violently hit the floor, his body contorting. He was still alive despite the near fatal fall, screaming and clawing at his face in a futile attempt to stop the burning.

"AAAAARRRGGGHHHHHH! AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

"Chance!" Leah ran forward, staff in hand when she quickly fell to his side, a green glow surrounding her hands, "Don't worry! I'll make the pain go away! Just hold on!" tears quickly ran down her face.

As Leah frantically tried to heal Chance, everyone else looked up in horror when they saw a fiery explosion several hundred feet above the castle walls.

"Aw, damn…" Adam spoke, "The entire castle knows we're here!"

"Now what do we do?" Joanna frantically asked. Adam's body stiffened as he gritted his teeth, staring down at the ground. The horrible sound of Chance's screams ringing in the background.

Aaron bit his bottom lip before he walked forward, grabbing everyone's attention, "The Shepherds are going to be here soon! Let's retreat for now and meet up with them, we don't stand a chance on our own!"

Naomi nodded and turned to Adam, "Aaron's right. We have to go."

Adam slowly nodded as he looked back up, turning back to Chance still screaming on the floor, "Isaac, Libra. Pick up Chance. We're moving."

Leah turned back her head with tears still in her eyes, "Wait! He's not done yet!"

"We don't have time, Leah," Adam responded. "We'll heal him when it's safe."

"But he'll die now if he isn't healed!" Leah gasped.

Libra walked over to Leah and placed a hand on her shoulder as he solemnly stared her in the eye, "Leah… You know we don't have time. We have to go."

Leah's face teared up even further as the green glow began to fade. Her tears were now quickly running down her neck.

"Chance…"

Isaac walked over to Chance as the screams slowly died. The green haired priest's body was stiff as he stood over his life long friend, "Damn it. You bastard. You damned crazy bastard."

"He's not dead yet," Libra picked up the burnt body. "Help me, Isaac."

Isaac walked over to Libra and turned around, slightly hunching himself over, "I'll carry him, Libra. We'll move faster that way."

Libra nodded as he brought Chance over to Isaac. Wrapping Chance's burnt arms around Isaac's neck and his untouched legs through the arms. Chance was moaning slightly.

Adam nodded as he walked a few paces away from the castle walls and broke into a run, "Let's go!"

The entire group ran as more and more fireballs fell from the sky. The frightening sound of multiple wyverns echoed through the air. The group struggled through the sand as they ran, larges piles were being kicked up as they desperately tried to run.

Everyone ducked when a rider flew from above, swinging his axe in an attempt to take their heads. Chance gave a tortured scream when Isaac fell.

"Hold on, buddy! You're going to make it. Don't worry! Don't worry!" Isaac tried to assure his friend.

Joanna yelled in frustration as she shot a bolt of wind into the air toward one of the wyvern. The rider quickly dodged when he saw the ripples.

"Keep moving!" Adam yelled once again. Everyone got up and picked up their pace.

Fireballs continued to rain from the sky in a glorious blaze in the dark. The moon had set and the sun began to rise. The desperate priests tried to escape.

Joanna fell when a fireball landed directly to her right, the sand kicking up and the explosion tossing her to the side.

"Joanna!" Libra turned back and ran to pick her back up, but froze when he saw a rider lunging with his lance towards him.

"RRAAGGHH!" Naomi screamed as she jumped forward and brought her sword through the rider's arm and the wyvern's neck. Throwing the wyvern off course as it recoiled in the air, almost slamming itself into Libra, Adam, and Aaron.

"Go!" Adam yelled once more. "The Shepherds are going to be here soon! Just keep-!" another ball of flame fell on their position, and this time directly where Adam stood as his body rapidly became undone.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

"No! Adam!" Naomi ran forward but stopped before his body as its entirety ignited into an even larger burst of flames, quickly searing his skin as he tried rolling on the ground. Libra and Aaron ran forward with staves in hand, a green glow surrounding Adam's body before the flames slowly extinguished.

Naomi walked forward, her eyes welling, "Adam?" Adam's entire body was charred in black, his face unrecognizable and his bloodshot eyes stared endlessly into the sky.

"No…" she choked.

"They're coming again!" Joanna yelled as a dozen wyverns flew overhead. One by one, each rider broke off formation and dive-bombed toward the shattered group.

"Get down!" Libra yelled. Everyone fell to the floor once again, with Chance this time uttering not a word nor scream.

Several riders flew close to the earth with each one passing less than several feet over the cowering bodies. Joanna was lying on her back as she shot several bolts of wind into the passing wyvern. Her magic making contact with two of them before they crashed into the ground. The remaining riders made a second pass as their movements crisscrossed over the priests, each of them coming in different directions.

Joanna was now sitting upright as she moved her body to get a better angle at their attackers, frantically firing at the nearest rider when they came for a pass. The priestess taking down as many as she could.

But there were too many, and they came much too fast.

Someone screamed as Joanna heard her name. Her mind focused on the rider before her as he charged her directly head on. She fired her shot at where the winged beast was, but the rider quickly rotated his wyvern and the bolt flew harmlessly between the beast's right wing and the rider's head. Joanna looked back as he passed over and had no time to process the axe of a second rider coming from behind and through her neck.

Joanna still had a wide eyed expression on her face as her decapitated head rolled off her shoulders. Her head fell in the sand and began to bleed, the rest of her body taking a couple more seconds to kneel forward and fall.

The remainder of the group was frozen in shocked silence, not wanting to believe what they had just seen. Leah leaned forward reaching for Joanna's headless body, no longer able to produce any more tears when she screamed.

Everyone watched but soon broke their gazes as the wyvern came in for another pass. Libra and Aaron stood up as they brought out their weapons, trying to swat the riders away like a swarm of insects. Isaac felt Chance's charred, mushy skin slip between his fingers as Chance slid to the floor. His mouth open slightly and no longer breathing.

Isaac's face griped. He knew his best friend was now gone.

The riders eventually stopped attacking as they went back into the sky. Isaac looked up to find another volley of artillery heading their way. The green haired priest stood up and yelled at everyone to do the same. He ran over to Leah who was still screaming in mass hysteria, forcefully picking her up and ran when the flames hit the ground.

The group ran as fast as they could through the desert sands. The sun was now a quarter of the way into the sky as everyone tried their best to dodge the deadly rain. Eventually over time they ran further and further away from the castle, and soon the fire magic stopped. The priests no longer in range of the falling flames.

Everyone fell to the floor when they realized this, their breaths incredibly heavy while they struggled to breathe. Their minds resting for a second when the peace was shattered once again at the sound of wyverns screaming from above.

Everyone but Leah stood up as they brought out their weapons. Isaac looked at the distraught girl and tried to pick her up, but was shocked to find her pushing him away.

"Leah…" Isaac called to her. She didn't respond, "Leah!"

"No!" she angrily yelled. "I can't do it! I can't! I just…" she broke into tears.

Isaac stared at Leah when his focus broke when he heard Aaron, Libra, and Naomi yelling as they swung their weapons in a frantic attempt to kill the riders.

"We can't die here!" Naomi yelled.

"Away with you!" Libra smashed his axe into the chest of an attacking wyvern.

"Argh!" Aaron grunted as he jumped out of the way of another.

Everyone fought for as long and as hard as they could, but were soon eventually separated as the riders soon broke the group apart.

Isaac was the first to fall when a lance rammed him through the gut while he tried to protect Leah. The girl soon falling quickly afterwards when she grabbed for her staff to heal the wound. Her bloodied body was seen on top of Isaac's, her arms protectively wrapping themselves around his chest.

Naomi moved with speed and agility through the sands, her sword sliding gracefully through the air as she jumped and slashed at the chest of a passing flier.

Aaron and Libra stood back to back to one another, still trying to wave off the wyvern. The two noticed Naomi all by herself when they tried to run for her. But as they ran, Libra did not notice another wyvern coming from behind as the rider smashed the back of Libra's skull with a hammer.

Naomi screamed Libra's name when she saw him fall and Aaron turning back to cover him.

Libra was miraculously still alive and conscious as the back of his head was caked in blood, the man spitting up more in return.

Aaron's eyes were wide as he looked over Libra's body, a worried voice quickly escaping his lips, "Libra! Libra, are you alright?" Libra looked up as no sound passed from his lips, his eyes barely open as he struggled to point his finger passed Aaron.

Aaron quickly turned around and rolled out of the way when another wyvern suddenly flew passed him, the boy barely dodging the attack.

Naomi ran up to the two in a breathless sweat, her short, dark hair now a mess. Her distraught face observed Libra's bloodied head as she looked back up at Aaron, her voice barely a whisper, biting her lip afterwards, "Heal him…"

Aaron solemnly nodded his head as he brought out his staff. The young war monk turned around and knelt by Libra's body, his hands glowing green. Naomi turned around and faced what else was left of the wyvern riders. Her face fell even further when she found the shadowy figures of reinforcements heading in their direction. She screamed when she attacked.

Aaron knelt over Libra's body as he quickly spoke any healing incantation he knew. Libra grunted under the pain when the pieces of his skull slowly reformed. Aaron looked back to find Naomi still standing, her movements becoming much more slower and rigid as she did what she could to distract their attackers.

Aaron looked back at Libra barely holding onto consciousness when he reached into his bag and pulled out a blue vial. Aaron brought the elixir to his friend's lips as Libra slowly drank, throwing the bottle away when he was finished. He then took out his staff again and continued to repair the remaining parts of Libra's skull. Aaron's movements moving in a much more fluid manner as all the pieces fell into place.

Libra's eyes opened and he grunted in pain once again when the healing was finished. He quickly remembered where he was and stood back up, grabbing his axe. Libra thanked Aaron as he looked back to where Naomi stood.

Naomi was hunched over, her face in agony with her left hand gripping her right shoulder. Cuts and blood shrouded the woman's body as she struggled to keep fighting.

Aaron and Libra got up as they tried to run for her once more, but another flier fell from the sky, swinging his axe as the two men dodged. Aaron and Libra looked up and then back to Naomi as the rider flew away, a scream broke from Aaron's lips.

Naomi stood in the middle of the field with her right arm swinging wildly at her attackers, yelling with each swing. But from the sky, the same rider that attacked Libra and Aaron moments before came directly from above. His wyvern falling completely perpendicular to the earth when it landed with an incredible thud, kicking dust into the air.

Aaron's screams stopped when his breath got caught in his lungs. Through the dust he saw the silhouette of Naomi and the rider together with an axe between Naomi's legs in front of her. Naomi's knees buckled and she fell to the floor. The sound of a horn echoed off in the distance and the the wyvern took off soon afterwards, blowing the dust away.

Aaron sat there numb when he looked at Naomi's crumpled body. Denial rushing through his mind at the thought that their strongest fighter and one of his most closest friends was taken out. His throat dry when no more words came.

Libra quickly got up and ran over to Naomi's body, a frantic expression on his face when he called her name.

Aaron soon got up and slowly walked over to Naomi's body, afraid to see her wounds. However when he got there, he was surprised to find that she was still alive. Her face was bloodied and her body was covered in multiple abrasions and puncture wounds from the lances she endured. A single red line trailed from the top of her head down to between her legs. Her head lolling back and forth while her eyes struggled to stay open. Libra cradled her in his arms as she looked up back at him.

Her hand reached out and softly caressed his face, giving him a weak smile, "Hey… you recovered," her eyes slowly opening and closing. "You look good."

Libra looked over Naomi's body finding her battle scars. Her once clear, beautiful skin only moments ago was now covered in cuts and bruises. Libra clenched his teeth, fighting back the emotions as he watched his friend dying in his arms, "Thank you…" he meant it, not just for the comment but because of her actions. It was because of him she was like this, "We'll get you home."

Naomi tried to keep on a brave face and kept smiling, looking passed Libra as she looked to the clouds, her lips parting slightly, "It's… clear now…"

Aaron stared in horror at his friend, refusing to believe that her life was already fading away, "No, Naomi. Don't."

She turned her head to Aaron and gave a slight chuckle as her hand weakly pointed to the sky, "No, you don't understand. The skies… they're clear now," Libra and Aaron looked up. "They're gone now."

"What?" Libra looked with a bewildered look on his face as he searched for the wyvern. The flying reapers that took so many of their friends had disappeared, the entire mass retreating back to the castle.

"Where are they going?" Aaron asked.

The three followed the shapes, soon realizing that they were not flying back to the castle, but to another group on the ground several thousand yards away.

"It's…" Libra spoke.

"It's the Shepherds!" Aaron broke into a grin. "They're here!"

Naomi looked to Libra and he looked back, smiles on both of their faces. He then proceeded to pick her up in his arms and carry her, laughing as he did so, "Oh thank the gods!" Naomi giggled, her face showing absolute joy.

Aaron ran ahead shouting back at the two, "Come on, guys! We're going to make it!" Aaron led the charge with Libra following suit and Naomi in his arms. Their eyes eagerly fixated on the charging wall of Shepherds as they braved the hellfire raining from the castle walls.

The three ran for several minutes with their legs soon beginning to burn. As motivated as they were to reach the safety of the Ylissian league, exhaustion from the several hour long ordeal was taking its toll. They were desperate and wanted to escape, the idea of why they were here in the first place was long from their minds, with only the presence of the Shepherds did they begin to remember.

So exhausted were they, that they did not notice the lone rider turning back around to their location. His wyvern making a large girth in the air as it broke off from the group, and the rider carefully choosing his target as he dived in for the kill.

Libra and Naomi's breaths were caught in their throats when they saw the wyvern materialize seemingly out of nowhere, no time to react when Aaron turned to his side. The axe slowly sliced diagonally from his collarbone down to his hip. A look of complete shock on Aaron's face as his body was cut, "Huh...?"

The wyvern flew off once again and Aaron fell, his unbelief still evident on his face when his body crumpled. Libra stopped running.

Libra and Naomi stared at Aaron's unmoving body as it laid in the sand, their moment of shock broke when they heard the wyvern scream from above. Libra turned his head to find the rider doing another wide turn as he slowly came in for another pass. The warmonk set Naomi on the ground as he pulled out his axe. The woman struggled to get up as well but her legs wouldn't let her, her body falling clumsily back down to the floor.

Libra stood with a defensive stance with his axe in both hands, his feet spread apart and a look of extreme rage on his face. His mouth moving rapidly as he quietly recited verses to himself. The wyvern and rider charging head on.

"Bless be the lords my strength which teaches my hands to war and my fingers to fight…"

The wyvern flew past Libra as he swung his axe.

"Goodness in all that I do as you watch over me!"

The rider circled around and stayed close to the ground, coming in for another pass, kicking up the sand in the process. Libra turned and swung again.

"Be my sword and my shield and the unmoving ground beneath my feet!"

The rider circled again.

"Protect me! Bless me with your strength and your faith!"

Libra could no longer see as the dusty sand surrounded him; a miniature sandstorm with him at the eye. He looked around, frantic as his heart began to beat faster. Sweat dripping down his face.

"...Thy kingdom come, thy will be done…"

Libra heard a high pitched roar when a shadowy figure of the wyvern charged right at him through the haze, knocking him several feet.

Libra laid on the his back when the winged lizard crushed his body beneath its feet, the wyvern screaming in his face. Blood ran from Libra's nose as he stared up at his executioner; the rider pulling out his lance as he skillfully spun it in his hand. The sun shining behind his head, crowning him in its divine light.

"On earth, as it is in heaven..."

Tears leaked from Libra's eyes as he saw the reaper before him, speaking to the world as he painfully uttered his last, "...In Naga's name I pray…" The rider lunged with his lance forward and Libra closed his eyes.

"...Amen."

Libra felt nothing when the stab came. Nothing when steel entered body and bone. When blood fell to the ground and a gurgling sound was made. He opened his eyes and found the rider had stopped. Arm stretched out with weapon in hand, pausing midway. Blood seeped down the rider's neck as a sword punctured itself all the way through; the hilt behind him and the tip in front of him. The rider's hand slowly grasped for the tip and his eyes rolled to the back of his head, his body falling to the ground.

The weight ceased from Libra's chest as the wyvern suddenly turned around. Whiplashing in fury at the sudden death of its partner. The second body of a blonde haired priest fell to the ground. The wyvern ran over to Aaron's body as it held the boy beneath it, roaring and shrieking in agony and despair.

Libra came to when he saw Aaron about to be ripped to shreds. He grabbed his axe and ran forward, lunging into the air as he screamed. The blade of the axe fell on the dragon's head, the beast screaming in pain as it entered. The wyvern threw Libra off its back as it recoiled, Aaron grabbed his sword and stabbed the underbelly, hot blood spilling out. The beast screamed again as it stepped off Aaron; Libra charged once more, bringing his axe down on the dragon's neck.

The wyvern fell, its body in a bloody mess as it rolled onto its side. Breathing heavily as its body twitched. Libra wiped the blood from his nose as he slowly walked over to the suffering beast. He held his axe over his head and brought it down once more, silencing the wyvern forever as it shrieked its last.

Libra breathed heavily, watching parts of the wyvern continue to twitch even in death. His weapon dropped to his side and Libra fell to his knees, taking in large breaths of air and watching the sweat from his brow fall and wet the sand. He stayed there breathing until he heard Aaron stir in the background, the boy bleeding was profusely as he tried to stay awake.

Libra immediately got up and ran to Aaron's side, the boy's face was mixed with dirt and blood as he coughed up sand. He quickly scanned over Aaron's body, finding the wound the rider had inflicted on him moments ago; most of his robe covered in blood. Aaron's eyes were slowly closing.

"Aaron. Aaron! Stay awake!" Libra lightly slapped the boy's face who groaned in response. He then got up and frantically searched the immediate area for a staff or vulnerary. He found no bottles and the only staff he found had its orb smashed in. Libra then ran back to a barely conscious Aaron and ripped a part of his garment, tightly wrapping it around the boy's waist as he carried him over to Naomi.

Naomi weakly spoke out Aaron's name as she lightly patted his hair, the girl going unconscious soon after.

Libra gave an exhausted sigh as he lightly set Aaron down behind him. He turned back again and brought his hands beneath Naomi, preparing to pick her up once again. Libra softly spoke, "Aaron, I know I am asking much of you right now, but please, climb onto my back. I'll carry the both of you over to the Shepherds."

Aaron weakly replied, "A-alright…" he wrapped his arms around Libra's neck as the priest stood up, an unconscious Naomi in his arms. Libra walked forward at an agonizing pace, with Aaron's feet hanging just barely above the sand.

Aaron had no clue how long they were walking for. To him it felt like an eternity. The sun was now hanging high in the sky and the sound of battle echoed off in the distance. He became light headed and breathing became a challenge, with his arms around Libra's neck slowly loosening over time. He was drifting off and his mind began to wander, and soon he felt like he was leaving his body.

He stared down at Libra and saw a sleeping Naomi in his arms and a half breathing piece of meat hanging off his back. Aaron no longer felt the extreme heat of the sun bearing down on him like it had before, he felt no pain and no anxiety as he watched Libra struggle through the sands. He looked up and noticed how close the three of them were to the battle just up ahead. How close they were to now reaching the Shepherds.

Aaron blinked back into consciousness when he heard someone call his name. He responded when he heard it a third time, "Y-yeah?"

"We're almost there, Aaron. Just a couple more minutes. We're almost there," Libra struggled to breath.

Aaron looked back down at his body and noticed how much he had deteriorated. He no longer felt his legs as they dangled lifelessly by Libra's. Flashes of light bordered his consciousness. He heard the most beautiful song as they flowed like water around his ears. He smiled, "Angels…"

Libra turned his head, "What?"

Aaron slowly shook his head and tried his best to tighten his grip around his friend, "R-remember last night when you told me to find something to be proud of?"

Libra stayed quiet for a moment while he waited for Aaron to continue. When nothing came, he responded, "Yes. Yes I do."

The boy slowly nodded and whispered into his ear, "What I found was that… I wanted to join… the Shepherds."

Libra gave a light smile and was about to respond when Aaron continued, "But… I realized the reason why I wanted to join the Shepherds… was because of Erik," Libra's mouth closed. "Erik's gone now. And it's because I couldn't protect him… Everyone else is gone now… because we couldn't protect them."

Libra bit his lip.

"We came here… to save Exalt Emmeryn. And with the Shepherds at our side, I know we can do it… We're almost there."

Libra nodded in response, "We're almost there."

Aaron smiled as he closed his eyes, his arms still tight around Libra's neck and his head resting on his back. He whispered, but his words were so low Libra almost missed it, "I'm proud... to know… that we'll… save her… Proud... to call all of you… my… family…" Aaron's head finally tilted, his grip around Libra's neck completely broke away as the boy fell to the ground.

Libra stopped running and turned around, his eyes wide in fear when he called out Aaron's name. He set Naomi down and picked up Aaron's body, grabbing him around the waist with one arm and then went to pick up Naomi with the other. His face of one with complete despair as he saw that the Shepherds were about a thousand yards away. Carrying both of his friends by his side, he ran, screaming at the top of his lungs for the Shepherds to hear.

* * *

A mage fell and smashed his body onto the floor beneath him, his backside torn open as Lon'qu walked over to him. The myrmidon holding his blade in the air as he brought it down on the struggling magician, the man giving a short scream before he died.

Lon'qu looked around him as he saw Gaius, Sumia, Cordelia, Nowi, and Gregor finishing off any remaining archers and mages on the bastille walls. The sound of the long bearing horn call still echoed in his ears. Lon'qu sheathed his sword as he watched Nowi in her dragon form destroying any ladders and stairwell leading to the upper ramparts. Anyone capable of long ranged attacks left on the ground floor of the courtyard could find no way to ascend. They settled for firing at the six Shepherds from where they were.

Everyone dodged when the shots came, recovering when the enemy prepared their second volley. Lon'qu looked up at the rocky cliff where Exalt Emmeryn stood, believing that they may have time to save her. A fiery explosion however, sounded high in the air outside the castle walls; a signal from Ian that that the enemy wyvern that for some reason weren't present at the castle had finally arrived.

Cordelia and her pegasus pulled up right next to Lon'qu, her hand stretched as she noticed him looking at where the Exalt stood.

"The wyvern have finally arrived, we don't have time to rescue her now. We'll have to wait a little bit longer," Lon'qu grunted as he reluctantly grabbed her hand. The six Shepherds had completed their primary objective and were now regrouping with the main force.

* * *

Back on the ground, the defensive wall created by the Shepherds and several other volunteer knights from the Feroxian army enjoyed the luxury of meeting little to no artillery fire from the enemy. Many of the more skilled, non-armored Shepherds were outside of the wall, taking down any Plegian footsoldiers that came their way.

Ian and Chrom stood side by side as they fought against the enemy. Ian with a thunder tome in his hand electrifying any distant soldiers and Chrom smashing down any of the few that made it through.

One final soldier charged at the duo, their backs turned as he screamed his battlecry. Ian and Chrom turned as Ian shot a bolt of lightning, catching the man before Chrom ran up and finished him off by swinging Falchion upwards across the man's chest and face. The man fell, screaming no more.

Chrom sheathed his blade and Ian put his tome away. The two looking around to find a field of dead Plegian foot soldiers with the rest of the Shepherds remaining mostly unscathed.

Ian breathed heavily as he looked at Chrom who looked back and gave a small, satisfied smile in response. The tactician nodded and he looked toward the top of the rampart walls, finding that very few artillery shots made it through as Lon'qu, Gaius, Sumia, Cordelia, Nowi, and Gregor quickly took them out.

He looked at Chrom with an uneasy expression on his face. His friend's smile fading when he looked back at Ian, "What?"

"The wyvern still haven't shown up yet. Where the hell are they?" Ian asked.

"Don't know," Chrom responded as he searched the sky, finding the air clear of any aerial attacks. "Maybe they ran off?"

"I doubt it," Ian searched as well. "A couple of us splitting from the main group should have at least lured some of them out. Why are they giving us an easy win?" Chrom shook his head at Ian as he gave his nonverbal response. A shriek was then heard from above as black dots appeared in the sky.

Someone yelled out, "Wyvern! Their air units are coming!"

Ian looked at Chrom and then looked back to the sky, finding the sight of multiple air squadrons heading their way, "There they are…"

"Come on," Chrom motioned his head back to the others. "We need to regroup."

Ian nodded as he pulled out his fire tome, "Got it," he fired a shot into the air as it created a loud explosion several hundred feet above. He put his tome away and ran back to the main force.

When Ian got there, the six Shepherds he sent to the top of the castle walls had already returned. He nodded to Cordelia as she looked his way, giving a small smile in response as she nodded in return. She began making her way over to him when he heard a voice from behind. Virion walked up to Ian with bow in hand as he congratulated the tactician, "My, my. Half of the enemy already eliminated and we have yet to lose a single piece. It would appear that our frequent board matches are beginning to bear fruit it seems."

"Seems to look that way," Ian responded. "But we can't call checkmate just yet. We still have their fliers we have to deal with."

"Of course, of course," Virion waved it off. "It would most definitely be unsportsmanlike to declare victory so soon. Still, it is only a matter of time before we take out the king and save the queen," Cordelia walked up. "Though it would appear some of our queens are already among us," he flashed a smile toward Cordelia, giving her a small bow. "Milady."

"Virion," the pegasus knight responded with a deadpan look as she turned to Ian, "Sir, the enemy artillery on the castle walls have been taken care of. Any paths leading to the upper ramparts have also been destroyed. We were unable to complete our secondary objective."

"Very well," Ian acknowledged the incomplete optional. "Good job, Cordelia," he smiled at her but fell to his normal look once again. "Though I've told you this already before… you can just call me Ian."

Cordelia stammered, "Uh, yes. Yes, of course, sir- I mean, Ian. My apologizes."

"It's alright…" Ian answered back, an awkward air between the two.

Ian looked back toward the approaching wyvern when Cordelia spoke up, "Sir- Ian. Though the entrances leading to the ramparts have been destroyed along with many of their long ranged units, there are still a couple more still remaining back on the ground floor."

"Alright then," Ian responded. "We'll take care of their air support for now and then overwhelm their archers and mages later."

Cordelia nodded, "Aye, aye, sir," she automatically responded, turning around to return to her position.

Ian sighed as he looked after her, slowly shaking his head at her still formal response. However, Ian snapped back to reality when he heard Vaike yell at the top of his lungs, "Here they come!"

The wyvern riders were upon the Shepherds in a matter of seconds. The winged beasts zooming past from above as they looked at the seemingly impenetrable wall. All the riders hesitated for a moment as they stared down at the Shepherds, deeming any attacks to the armored sides impossible. It was then they decided to dive down and go for the meat in the middle.

Ian, Ricken, Miriel, and Virion were equally spaced out in random parts of the inner wall, hiding under the shadow of their comrades until the attack came. Chrom waited until the last possible moment before he gave the signal and shouted, "FIRE!"

Many of the attacking riders were taken off guard when the magic and arrows hit. Most of the shots hit their mark and the wyvern and their riders plummeted to the earth. Many of them falling into the inner circle of Shepherds and were swiftly dealt with.

The remaining fliers stared in shock at how many of them had already fallen in their first pass. All of them reluctant to make a second one. But from out of the blue rode two lone pegasus knights. The pegasus knights flew through the Plegian line as the wyvern riders stared at them in disbelief. Many more flew after them as they gave chase, falling for the bait of an easy kill.

Cordelia and Sumia split up as each were being followed by three to four riders. Sumia flew away from the group and behind the castle walls, disappearing with four riders on her tail. Cordelia flew to the left of the castle and dived down to the earth when she noticed the number following her. Leveling her pegasus to the ground with the horse's hoofs galloping inches above the sand.

Ricken and Miriel appeared at the back of the outer wall, firing their wind magic when Cordelia flew past. The three riders were thrown off their wyvern and violently crashed into the ground. Frederick, Sully, and Stahl broke from the wall and galloped over to the dazed riders, swiftly executing them upon their arrival.

The three galloped back to the wall as the Shepherds made a hole. The three knights rode through with no resistance, with the rest of the Shepherds filling in the gaps when they passed.

The three made it to the other side of the wall when Sumia reappeared from behind the castle, the four wyvern still hot on her tail. Sumia pulled on her pegasus as she made a sharp left, the hoofs barely inches off the ground.

The winged horse lowered however, and its feet scraped the ground. Sumia flew forward off her pegasus as they both crashed into the floor, both of them lying inches away from the firing zone.

Ian and Virion fired as quickly as they could, trying their best to snipe the four riders from their position before they fell upon Sumia.

Three of the four were taken out as Sully and Stahl rode out to take care of them. But the last rider had his spear at the ready, trying his best to ignore the sight of his three comrades falling from the sky.

He eyed the fallen pegasus knight as she struggled to get up in a daze. He held his breath as he lunged forward, focusing his attack on the back of her head.

Frederick galloped over to Sumia's side, his shield up as he caught the lance in its frame. The weapon bounced off the knight with the inertia knocking the rider off his wyvern. The great knight galloped to where the dazed man fell, and without hesitation, punctured his lance through the man's heart.

Frederick pulled his weapon out of the dead rider, his anger still fresh on his face, "You will not touch her," Sumia stared in awe as Frederick rode back to her, his hand reaching down to her when he arrived. "All you alright, milady?"

Sumia broke into an ecstatic smile when she grabbed his hand, her body shaking from both the crash and from excitement, "That was amazing!"

Frederick smiled, "All that I can do to protect you," Sumia sat behind him as she wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his back. Frederick had a slight blush that could only be seen from the front, but soon recovered when he ordered his horse forward. Sumia's pegasus following behind.

Ian looked away from the scene and focused his attention on the remaining riders in the sky, knowing that their trick wouldn't work again. He tried to think of another way to take them out when he heard someone yell from far away.

Everyone turned their heads to the source of the sound, their eyes squinting to find a blonde haired woman dressed in white cloth carrying two large objects at her side struggling toward them. She yelled again. Her words barely audible over the wind.

The remaining wyvern riders all looked at each other as they suddenly dived down on the mysterious woman. Lances and axes ready to tear her apart.

Everyone stared when Virion stepped forward, the string of his bow already primed, "Oh no, you don't!" The arrow flew from Virion's hands and hit nearest rider with masterful precision. The first rider fell and Virion fired off another shot toward a second.

Ian, Miriel, and Ricken ran up beside the nobleman as they spammed wind magic into the air, frantically trying to cover the unknown woman.

Every rider fell but one. The last man flying just out their range as he brought his axe back, flying as fast as he could toward the defenseless woman.

Virion pulled his arrow back and yelled, "He's too far away! I can't hit him from here!"

Ian screamed, "FIRE!"

"But-!"

"I SAID FIRE!"

Virion shot his arrow and a blast of wind punched through him as he fell. The blast caught the arrow and it accelerated through the air, the shot puncturing the rider's neck and killing him instantly. His wyvern crashed to the floor, the bones in its wings snapping on impact.

Everyone cheered at the amazing shot, a shot that had practically no reason of working at all. Almost every Shepherd cheered and screamed. Virion picked himself off the floor and dusted himself off, turning to Ian with a furious look on his face.

"What in heavens was that for!? How dare you-!"

Ian chuckled as he placed a hand on Virion's shoulder and pointed him towards the dead wyvern and rider, "Nice shot."

"What?" the man looked back, the angered look in his face changed to surprise when he found only the woman still standing. "Wait, you mean it-? I mean," he cleared his throat," O-of course it did! What, did you expect anything less from the great Virion himself? The archest of archers?"

Ian laughed, "No, not at all. Beautiful shot."

"Ah ha! Why it is only a matter of-" Virion continued to speak as Ian tuned him out, the tactician walked over to Chrom to discuss the stranger.

"Chrom, who is that woman? Do you know why she was being attacked?"

Chrom shook his head, "No. But it looks like we're going to find out," he turned to Sully, "Sully, lend me your steed."

"What?"

Frederick stepped in, "I wouldn't advise that, milord. Especially when... Ahem," he cut himself off. "I mean, we do not know who this person is and why she is here. I would suggest in the very least that we wait until she comes to us."

Chrom grunted, "But she was just-!"

"Chrom," Ian spoke up. "I'm going to have to side with Frederick on this one. We don't know what she's capable of. Just wait a couple more minutes and we'll find out."

Chrom clenched his teeth as he looked back at his friend, his fists loosening as he conceded, "...Fine."

Everyone watched as the woman slowly limped her way toward them. They soon discovered that what the woman held was not just two large objects, but more specifically two bodies. She yelled at the top of her lungs again, "Please! Help!"

Lissa gasped, "It's a clergywoman!" Chrom's eyes widened as he sprinted toward the woman with Ian and Frederick frantically calling after him.

Chrom slid to his knees when he saw the woman collapse, the two bodies falling to her side. Chrom looked over the woman's body finding her robes in tatters and her nose bloody. A look of desperation in her eyes.

"Please, help. My friends, they're dying. They need immediate medical attention."

Chrom quickly nodded as he looked at the two bodies. Noticing the black hair of a badly cut and beaten woman along with a short, blonde haired boy in a similar condition. He turned back his head as he frantically called, "Lissa! Maribelle! I need you here now! I have two people in extreme critical condition!"

Lissa and Maribelle quickly arrived on the noblewoman's horse, staves at the ready with Lissa jumping off, "Chrom!"

"Lissa!" Chrom frantically waved his hand over, "These two need healing! Now!"

"Alright!" she cried as Maribelle walked over. Green glows enveloped their hands as they hovered over the two dying priests.

The rest of the Shepherds reached the group as Ian walked forward, placing his hand on Chrom's shoulder to get his attention, "Chrom…"

The Prince turned his head, "What?"

"We still need to stop your sister's execution."

The blood drained from Chrom's face when he realized his forgetfulness. He quickly stood back up, "Aw, crap! How did I-! Son of a-!" he turned to his younger sister. "Lissa! You and Maribelle stay here! Do what you can to save these two."

"But what about you guys?" shock ran across Lissa's face. "What will happen if you guys need healing?"

"We'll be fine," Chrom answered. "Right now your focus should be getting these guys back on their feet and alive," Lissa continued staring. "That's an order!"

"What!?" Lissa yelled out. "Wait a minute! I don't take orders from you!"

"Shepherds! Move out!"

"Wait! Come back here, mister! I'm not done talking to you!" Lissa stood up as she watched everyone else move past her. Her words falling on deaf ears as she yelled, "Chrom you big idiot!" The woman looked up at Lissa with a bewildered look on her face, her mind trying to process what was going on.

Maribelle looked at the woman as her hands hovered over the blonde haired boy's chest. Giving her an apologetic look every now and then as she went back to concentrate on her work.

The woman looked back at Maribelle as she bit her lip, eventually opening her mouth to thank her. Maribelle looked at the woman for a quick second and then returned to the boy, "There is no need for thanks. For it is the duty of the noble to help the downtrodden. I will do all I can to help your friends, sister."

"Brother," the woman corrected.

"What?" Maribelle looked up.

"Brother," the woman repeated. "I'm a man."

"Wait, what?" Lissa interrupted. "But, but you're so pretty! You look like an angel!"

"I… get that a lot," the man almost shamefully admitted. He turned his head, looking back and forth at his dying friends and the two healers. "But enough of that. Please, do not let me interrupt you. Do what you can to save my friends."

"We are doing all we can..." Maribelle stopped, looking back at the blonde, beautiful faced man.

"Libra," the man answered the unasked question. "My name is Libra," he motioned to the two bodies beside him. "Their names are Aaron and Naomi."

"Very well, Libra," Maribelle continued. "We'll do all we can to save Aaron and Naomi."

Libra softly spoke, fighting back the tears he felt edging near the corner of his eyes, "...Thank you. And bless you. May the gods bless you both..."

* * *

The Shepherds, minus their two healers, neared the front doors of the castle courtyard. What stood between them were two men on horseback and a slim woman with black hair, revealing clothing, and a brooding look on her face.

The two cavalier charged the wall of Shepherds in hopeless desperation. Both men were swiftly cut down. The woman stood unmoving as she held an open, purple tome in her hands, silently cursing herself at her damned awful luck.

Ian and Chrom looked at one another as the blue haired prince called out, "Hey! You there! Are you with the Plegians? You seem reluctant to fight!"

The woman suddenly snapped back, her tone sarcastic, "No! Of course not! Why wouldn't I be reluctant to die?" she looked back down at her open tome, her dark bangs covering her eyes, "...But death comes to us all eventually. Why invite it early, fighting for a cause I don't believe in?"

Chrom hesitated, "So… I should take that as a no, or…"

The woman stared back with an annoyed look on her face, "Let's just say I'm keeping my options open. I mean, long live the king and all, but I'd like to keep living as well. And I have a bit of a rebellious streak, I'm afraid. A… dark side."

Ian stepped forward, "Then join our cause. Fight for us and we'll let you live. I'd rather not take the life of a beautiful woman such as yourself."

The woman's cheeks flushed red, her eyes wide when she faced Ian, "W-what? I mean. Who are you?" she accusingly pointed her finger at him.

"His name is Ian," Chrom answered. "He is our chief tactician. It is because of him that we were able to get this far-"

"Chrom!" Ian quickly interjected. "You shouldn't give information like that away so easily!"

The woman spoke up as she stared at her feet, cutting Ian off in the middle of his retort, "Y-you're the one who did this?" Ian stared back at her. "You planned all of this? You found a way to take down an entire castle with such a disadvantage in such a short amount of time? Willing to sacrifice the lives of your clergyman and soldiers to distract us in order to win?" she looked back at him. "That's a bold move."

Ian froze, "Sacrifice? Clergy? Wait, what are you-?"

The woman giggled to herself, "You're sadistic. Wow, I've never felt this way before. I never thought in all of my life would I have a feeling such as this," she had the most mischievous grin on her face. "Surprisingly, I find that very… attractive…"

Ian's face fell in disbelief, "Ha?"

The woman continued to laugh, "Oh, Ian! What a wonderful name!" she slowly walked over to him. "Oh, if you insist. I guess I'll join your cause… by your side… Ian," she leaned to his side and whispered into his ear, "My name is Tharja by the way...heh...heh...heh…" Ian pulled away as quickly as he could. Tharja then stepped back and faced the courtyard doors, a black haze surrounded her hands as the doors flew open. She looked back at Ian with a sultry look before walking inside.

Every one of the Shepherds stared at the woman in shocked disbelief, many of them with their mouths hanging open. Vaike spoke up.

"What the hell just happened?"

* * *

Maribelle, Lissa, and Libra sat outside the castle walls, the clashes and sounds of fighting echoing from it.

Libra sat exhausted in between his two friends, praying and chanting the verses he knew with the little breath he had. Maribelle and Lissa chanted healing incantations as their hands hovered over the two unconscious priests.

Someone's loud, anguished scream echoed from the castle, the person's scream surpassing the clashing metal. Lissa bit her lip as she anxiously looked to where the Shepherds were. Maribelle looked as well but quickly went back to her work, her chanting however came to a slow and uncomfortable stop.

Libra stared at her for a second then down at Aaron. The boy's wounds had somewhat healed but he made no sound. His chest unmoving. Maribelle placed her ear to the boy's mouth and then to his chest. In both cases, she heard absolutely nothing. Libra stayed silent as he watched Maribelle place her lips over Aaron's mouth, breathing into him as she pulled out. She placed both her hands over his chest and compressed them, doing this multiple times until she breathed into his mouth again.

Libra sat there and watched in unmoving silence, hearing the sounds of Maribelle performing mouth to mouth resuscitation on Aaron to his left and Lissa chanting as she worked to heal Naomi on his right. The sounds of metal bouncing off metal and people dying echoed in the background.

After several minutes, Maribelle eventually stopped. Libra stared at her as her hand slowly hovered over the entirety of Aaron's body, doing this motion twice until the green glow in her hand disappeared.

Maribelle looked at Libra with a somber look in her eyes. Libra clenched his teeth when she spoke, "He's… dead. I'm sorry, Libra."

Libra sat there silent as the words have yet to process in his mind. Maribelle's words traveled in slow motion to his ears, the meaning taking even longer to take shape. A scream reached Libra's ears before Maribelle's words did. The three all turned their heads toward the top of the rocky cliff.

* * *

"Y-your Grace, I… Please forgive me…"

"Phila!" Emmeryn's words escaped from her lips. She watched as her bodyguard and advisor plummeted to the ground. She watched from above as her best friend died. The Shepherds on the ground floor froze as they watched the falling Pegasus Knights. Cordelia and Sumia quickly landing on their own.

A commotion broke out between her brother Chrom and King Gangel; a man with dark skin, stylish black and yellow clothing, red hair, and a demented smile. Emmeryn fell to her knees as tears ran down her face, the Exalt not noticing the several dozen arrows now pointed at her.

"Chrom! No! Don't! You can't trust him!"

"Of course! I know that I can't trust him! I'm not an idiot! But…!"

Emmeryn tried to wipe away her tears as she watched Chrom, Ian, Gangrel, and the rest of the Shepherds below. Her eyes widening in horror as she watched her brother and the rest of the Shepherds about to lay down their arms. She yelled.

"No wait!"

Everyone turned their heads toward Emmeryn as she stood back up. Every eye fixated on her, "King Gangrel, is there no hope you will listen to reason?"

Gangrel scoffed, "You mean listen more to your sanctimonious babble? I think not! No, all I want is to hear a thunk of arrows. And a splat! As you hit the ground," he pointed to her then spread out his arms, "Take one, long, last look from your perch. You do so enjoy looking down on people," he paused. "Then prepare to meet the ground, and your maker! That is, unless someone were to give me the Emblem…" he suddenly turned to Chrom, "Now!"

Emmeryn looked to her brother as he slowly spoke up, "Alright…"

"Huh?" Gangrel leaned forward, cupping his ear. "What'd you say? Can you repeat that?"

"I said alright!" Chrom yelled at Gangrel. He looked to Emmeryn as she stood near the crown of the world, a look of defeat in his eyes, "Alright... Emm..." his sister's face saddened. "I know you won't approve, but this is my final decision. Maybe someday we'll face a crisis where maybe the Emblem would've helped. But I know for a fact that Ylisse needs you, today!" he clenched his fist. "The people need their exalt… And we need our sister. If those dark days should come, we'll face them together."

Emmeryn held her breath as she closed her eyes, answering once they reopened, "Chrom… Th-thank you. I now know what I must do…"

Chrom's eyes widened, "Emm, what are you-?"

Emmeryn placed a hand over her chest as she spoke as loudly as she could, her voice traveling almost miles around, "Plegians! I ask that you hear the truth of my words! War will win you nothing but sadness and pain, both inside your borders and out. Free yourselves from this hatred! From this cycle of pain and vengeance. Do what you must… As I will do," she began to take a step toward the edge, "See now that one selfless act has the power to change the world!"

She stepped off the edge.

Chrom screamed, "Emm! No!" automatically sprinting to where she was.

As Emmeryn fell to the earth, thoughts quickly ran through her mind as time seemingly slowed.

"_No reaction. Was I wrong then?"_

She looked to Chrom running to her final destination.

"_This is some torch I'm passing you," _She smiled to herself. "_So be it…"_

The air flew past Emmeryn as she descended toward the ground, her mind and body seemingly at ease as she gracefully fell. She opened her eyes and saw her people one final time, "_Chrom, Lissa. My cherished brother and sister. Thank you for the memories and our moments together. Remember that I'll always love you."_

Her eyes switched to the white clothed bodies that laid empty far from the castle walls, "_I am sorry, my clergy, that you had to die because of me…"_ She pursed her lips. "_May I thank you and apologize to you in the afterlife…" _

Finally her eyes landed on Frederick, the great knight whose eyes were filled with horror at the scene before him, "_Frederick…" _Emmeryn smiled. "_I've… never really did… get over you…"_

The speed of the world slowly began to pick up with the ground now mere seconds away. Exalt Emmeryn closed her eyes for the last time.

"_My people… may we meet again soon…"_

Chrom fell to his knees and cried.

* * *

Lissa was covering her eyes, sobbing as Maribelle wrapped her in her arms. The noblewoman trying to comfort her friend but was at a lost for words.

Libra saw from the corner of his eye a woman in full blue attire with the same colour hair, holding her hand to her mouth in the distance. The girl fell to her knees.

Libra instinctively looked to Aaron's body, his mind in complete shock when he heard the words…

"_We came here… to save Exalt Emmeryn… I know we can do it…"_

Tears ran down Libra's face.

"_I'm proud... to know… that we'll… save her… Proud... to call all of you… my… family…" _

Libra whispered in despair, "No…"

"_We failed…"_

"_We couldn't save her…"_

"_You died…"_

"_...for nothing."_

* * *

**Holy cow, this chapter is finally done. I counted about 11 line breaks in this one. This is easily the longest chapter I've written to date. I confess though, the reason why I feel so tired typing this author note right now is because I wrote 80% of this chapter in the last three days. I literally threw myself and dedicated my entire weekend to finishing this out of guilt because of the lack of updates and because I wanted to get this out on the very latest on Halloween day. Obviously that second part didn't happen. But anyways, better late than never. I also originally thought this was going to be a boring copy and paste chapter from the game. I guess not, haha.**

**I noticed with some other fanfiction stories and even in the game itself, a lot people don't really seem to remember Libra's old group. Most people seem to remember members of Cordelia's old squad dying before she is recruited. The exact same thing practically happens to Libra when he is recruited, but no one seems to remember them. Even when you first speak with Libra himself, he mentions his friends only once and never talks about them ever again, almost like he didn't really care about their existence. Cordelia and Libra could have had a really good support conversation about losing their battle buddies before joining the Shepherds, but no. They had to spend most of it talking about carrying heavy crates. So disappointing. **

**Anyways, I'll wrap up this author's note. This chapter took an extremely long time to finish and I hope to never have to exert myself in my writing like that ever again. Or in the very least, not anytime soon. If you guys notice any punctuation or spelling errors in here, don't hesitate to let me know. I appreciate the kind and constructive reviews so far and I love you all. Thanks again everyone and I'll see you guys in the future when I update again. Have a good one.**


	6. Chapter 5: Rain

**Hey, everyone. Happy belated Thanksgiving. Another chapter is in. Classes end in about a week or two from now and so I'll have more time to write and update when winter break rolls in. ****I just want to thank you guys for the reviews so far and more specifically Antex for the constant encouragement with each chapter and Dane Namor for the paragraph long reviews that I always find myself looking forward to. Seriously, it really does help. To be honest though when I read about how much you groaned when you came across the multiple OCs in the previous chapter, I couldn't help but laugh because I knew even before I started that chapter how much you hated OC overload.**

**The chapter ahead is a little more violent than the last. But nonetheless I hope you enjoy. **

* * *

**Chapter 5: Rain**

_Rain..._

_Rain..._

_Go Away..._

_Come again…_

_...Another day…_

* * *

The defeated Shepherds walked through the desert when the rains began to fall, which came as a sudden and rapid change to the hot climate before. The skies had darkened and the group's optimism earlier that morning disappeared just how the sun had, replaced with tears that fell from the sky.

The dry earth turned to mud and the arid heat became a warm chill. Ian walked alongside Chrom at the front of the convoy with his hood pulled down. The tactician's socks were wet, mud stuck to the bottom of his boots, and the humid air filled his lungs with each breath.

Ian walked in silence as did everyone else, staring at the ground before him while he heard the warm rain rapidly splatter upon his coat. He turned his head to the right, finding Chrom in an even more defeated state than he was, not even bothering to put his hood back on as the rain drenched his hair and water slid off the tip of his nose.

The tactician gave a shiver and then looked behind him, watching the once proud convoy move at an agonizingly slow pace, despite being in retreat. The men and women of the Shepherds hung their heads, and every now and then someone would lose their footing and fall in the mud, their nearby comrades momentarily stopping to help them back up. Everyone was covered in mud.

The horses and their riders walked at the back on the convoy. The wings of the pegasus became too wet and heavy due to the rains and were forced to stay on the ground with the others. Frederick tentatively stood nearby Sumia as the girl consistently slipped every couple of seconds, the man's arm practically wrapped around her's due to the number of times she fell. The great knight's normal armored shine dulled with the mud. Cordelia walked beside them lost in her own train of thought, but every now and then she would look up with worried eyes to the front of the convoy where Chrom and Ian were before shamefully looking back at the ground.

Vaike helped lead Maribelle's horse by the reins while the noblewoman rode on top, making sure the arms of the unconscious female priest was still secured around her waist. Lissa stood nearby, her tears mixed with the rain as she held her staff tight to her chest.

Ian's eyes finally fell on Libra, the war monk wore the same face as everyone else as he gave an endless stare. The priest piggybacking the body of his late friend where the dead boy's arms hung stiff off of Libra's shoulders. The man's eyes were empty.

Ian couldn't help but stare at the priest while he watched everyone around him. Every one of the Shepherds had survived the battle at the castle courtyard, but in truth it wasn't because of him they had lived. He looked at Tharja shivering in the rain as she took cover behind Panne's body in her beast form. Sacrifices were made and at least one life was lost. The ashen haired tactician had yet to learn what the true casualty cost really was.

He then looked back ahead, biting his bottom lip as he closed his eyes and clenched his fists. Finding guilt in the fact that it was because they were not fast enough that the boy had died.

Ian let out a long, chilled breath, "Damn it…"

The Shepherds marched on for several more minutes before they came upon the remains of a giant rib cage that lay on top of a ravine at several stories high. Everyone looked at it warily before proceeding.

Basilio, a large, bald, dark skinned man with an eyepatch suddenly spoke up. The West Khan breaking the silence, "Hurry! There should be carriages waiting just through the ravine!"

Ian looked at Chrom who momentarily stared at the West-Khan before turning his head back toward the ground. Ian looked back at Basilio, "Yeah… alright…"

As everyone continued to walk a little bit further through the ravine, figures of Plegian soldiers began to emerge from the shadows, a couple of them blocking the pathway with weapons drawn. The convoy stopped as they stared back at their adversaries, almost surprised to find that they stared into eyes that were as crestfallen as their own.

Basilio cursed, "Damn… I knew it couldn't be that easy."

Ian looked up when there was a flash of lightning, finding the silhouette of a large, bald headed man with a brown, bushy beard standing on one of the rock cliffs above them.

The bald headed man called out with his arms crossed, "Hold, Ylisseans! I am General Mustafa of the Plegian Army! We offer you mercy! Surrender now and your lives will be spared!"

Chrom looked up with emotionless eyes.

"Surrender? I'm sorry, but we're not familiar with the word!" Basilio yelled back.

The general replied, "I understand your hesitation. If it were under any other circumstances I would have gladly made battle with you. But…" the man stared at the ground. "With the events we have witnessed today, that is no longer the case," he looked up. "Emmeryn would not have wished for this to come to bloodshed-"

"Don't speak her name!" Chrom suddenly fired out. Ian turned to face his friend, shock written on his face as everyone else also stared at the enraged prince. Chrom was breathing heavily now as he began to slowly pull Falchion from his scabbard. "...How dare you?"

"Chrom…" Ian quietly whispered.

Mustafa softly sighed, "Your rage is justified, Prince Chrom. But the meaning of your sister's final sacrifice was not lost on me. I… suspect many Plegians who heard her final words would also say the same," he stared at the prince with a somber look in his eyes. "In the very least... that's how my men and I feel."

Chrom clenched his teeth.

"Lay down your weapons and I'll see that no harm comes to you or your men," Mustafa finished.

"How can we trust you after what your barbarous king has done?" Frederick stepped forward, placing himself between the Plegians and Chrom. Ian looked back at Sumia, finding the girl now holding onto Cordelia while she watched with fear in her eyes.

The general's arms fell when he exhaled, "I… have nothing to offer but good faith."

Chrom grunted, "Tch."

Ian watched with growing concern as he turned back and whispered to the Shepherds behind him, "Get ready for defensive positions. Pass it down."

Chrom spoke up once again, "I think we'll take our chances with weapons in hand!"

The Plegian general slowly nodded his head in understanding as he closed his eyes, "I suspected you would say as much," his eyes opened once again. "So be it…" he turned to his soldiers. "Men, attack!"

Ian yelled, pulling out his sword, "Everyone, move!" Chrom crouched low and then went into a full sprint, roaring as he ran his blade through the first Plegian soldier in his path. Ian turned back when he heard Frederick yell after Chrom. Ian shouted, "Chrom! No! Get back!" Chrom disappeared into the body of soldiers. "Damn it!" he screamed.

Frederick took a step forward in an attempt to chase after the lord, but stopped when Ian grabbed his arm.

"Unhand me!" the great knight yelled.

"Don't go, Frederick! It would be suicide to go in alone! We need you back here to help defend our forces!"

"It is my duty to ensure Prince Chrom stays safe! I would give my life to accomplish that! Do not hinder me!" Frederick shoved Ian off him and the tactician fell in the mud. The great knight turned and pulled out his lance before sprinting after Chrom. Sumia yelled after him.

Everyone watched with incredible disbelief as Ian sat in the mud yelling after Frederick. Gaius and Lon'qu moved forward to help the tactician up while everyone else rushed to organize their movements. Libra stood stock still while everyone moved around him. Continuing to carry Aaron's dead body as the war monk stood unflinching, staring into the mud. His hair covered his eyes as the rain slid down the strands.

Maribelle turned to him when she realized he hadn't moved, "Libra?"

Libra continued to stand still for a couple more moments before he turned to Kellam and spoke, "Hold him."

Kellam stopped at the realization that someone noticed him before he grew even more confused at the priest's request, "What?"

Libra brought Aaron's body forward and repeated himself, "Hold him," The knight hesitantly brought his hands forward as Libra placed the boy's body into his arms.

Naomi stirred behind Maribelle as she slowly opened her eyes, "Libra? What are you…?" Libra ignored her as he began to make his way to the front lines, his shoulder hitting Ian's when he shoved past him. The war monk pulled out his axe and then sprinted into the fray, disappearing into the rain.

Ian was dumbstruck with his mouth hanging slightly open before he yelled in frustration once again.

"You can't be bloody serious!"

More soldiers filed out in front of the Shepherds, effectively blocking off any routes to Chrom, Frederick, and Libra. The Plegian soldiers were hesitant, but held their weapons at the ready, prepared to fight if need be. Ian cursed as his fingers tightened around his sword, "Chrom, you freakin' bastard…"

Lon'qu, Gregor, Vaike, Donnel, Panne, Basilio, and Flavia moved up beside Ian with their weapons primed. Stahl and Sully quickly joined them, the two riders opting to fight without their mounts. The Shepherds stared at the Plegian soldiers and the Plegians stared back. Thunder roared and there was a flash of lightning, the Shepherds yelled as they charged into the Plegian line.

* * *

Frederick sprinted through the enemy lines in search for Chrom, the great knight spinning his lance and taking down any soldiers that got in his way. He was alone however and far from any support, which meant any mistake on his part would almost certainly lead to his death. But despite this knowledge, fear kept him going. Fear not for his life, but for his lord, the very same man he swore his life to protect.

Two more soldiers ran up to the knight with swords in hand, Frederick managed to ram one of them through the gut while the other dodged his attack by sliding through the mud behind him. Frederick quickly turned around and blocked the attack with the polearm when the soldier lunged forward. The two men struggled as the soldier tried to push his blade against Frederick's lance. Frederick grunted when he shoved his weapon forward, throwing the soldier off him. The soldier jumped back as Frederick sweeped his lance in a wide arc, breathing a little heavily while Frederick glared back at him.

The soldier grabbed some mud from the hillside and ran back at Frederick, throwing the dirt into the knight's face before he once again slid by his side.

Frederick tried to rub the mud from his eyes while he stumbled around blindly, wildly swinging his lance. The Plegian soldier caught his breath for a couple of seconds before running back at his opponent. The soldier held his sword in one hand as he arched his right shoulder back and brought the blade down. Frederick managed to rub the mud from his eyes when he instinctively sweeped his lance to the side once again, smacking the soldier with the polearm in the chest.

The soldier had the wind knocked out of him when his back slammed against a wall. He held his side when he tried to stand back up, but just as he did so Frederick speared him through the stomach. The soldier screamed in pain when Frederick pushed his body up higher against the wall, blood running from his mouth as he struggled and swung his sword against Frederick's lance.

The soldier's breathing quickened when he realized his end. He became enraged and pained tears ran down his face as he grabbed the lance with one hand and used his legs to push against the wall, impaling himself all the way through and screaming in both determination and agony as his body quickly slid down the pole. Frederick's eyes widened as the angry soldier slid down the lance and hit him in the collarbone with his sword.

Frederick stumbled back as he grunted in pain, letting the lance go and the Plegian soldier fell to the ground. Frederick breathed heavily when he pulled out his sword, watching the soldier lean against the wall as another flash of lightning appeared. The soldier grunted in pain as he held the lance puncturing through his gut with crimson hands, staring back with defiant eyes when Frederick walked up to him. The great knight stared down on the young soldier for a moment before slashing him across the face with his blade, the young man let out his last breath when he violently fell to his side.

Frederick stood over the Plegian soldier for a couple of seconds while he allowed his breathing to fluctuate back to normal. He shook his head. He then picked up the body and grabbed the spear from the man's backside and pulled all the way through, coating its entirety in the man's blood. Frederick shook his weapon a couple of times while parts of the red liquid fell to the ground. He then looked at the young, dead soldier one last time before running off again to find his lord.

* * *

All of the soldier's in the Shepherd's immediate area were taken out as the main group took a second to recover. Ian rubbed his hair and letting the water sprinkle from on top of him before looking back to find everyone relax for a moment. He paused when he heard someone grunt in pain and turned to find Vaike leaning against a muddy wall and grabbing his shoulder.

Ian ran forward and leaned by the muscled fighter's side, looking to find only the man's shoulder had been punctured.

"Are you alright?" Ian asked with his hand on his friend's other shoulder.

"Me? Ha! Nothing ol' Teach can't- Augh! Can't handle…" Vaike winced in pain.

Gaius walked up, "Whoa there, buddy. Look at the size of that hole. You probably shouldn't move around too much."

"Buzz off!" Vaike retorted. "This pain ain't nothin! I can-Augh! Handle myself," Ian raised an eyebrow at Vaike before calling Lissa over, the young princess setting to work straight away.

Once Vaike had recovered and began flexing his muscles once again, Ian looked back at the body strewn battlefield and gave an exhausted sigh. He order everyone forward as they began to search for their runaway comrades.

Thunder boomed and everyone looked around for their three missing friends. Many members of the group wanted to call out but were forced to stay silent in case it gave away their position. Yet with each passing second, the chances that either Chrom, Frederick, Libra, or even all three were still alive began to dwindle. Ian became frustrated.

Cordelia walked up the tactician after a couple minutes passed by and spoke her mind, "Ian, we're running out of time."

"I know," Ian said. "But what do you want me to do? If you suggest splitting up, I say no. That's suicide."

"But they may end up dead if we don't find them in time! Splitting up and forming multiple search parties may be our only course of action!" Cordelia quickly spoke.

"And what will happen if you guys get lost? Or even captured?" Ian demanded. "That'll only multiply our problems!"

Sumia walked up to the tactician and began to beg, "Please, Ian. Cordelia is right, this field splits off in multiple directions. If we keep moving at the pace we're at, we may never find them," she teared.

Gaius turned to Ian and his face fell looking at the thief, "Oh not you too!"

Gaius shrugged, "Sorry, Bubbles. But they have a point. We're moving much too slow as a search party, especially for my tastes."

Ian clenched his teeth as every Shepherd in the closest proximity looked at him. He grunted, "Every tactical bone in my body is telling me no," he glared. "Alright, fine then. We'll split off into groups, but there will be a limit of at least six per group. Don't do anything stupid or get split up further or I swear I'll... I'll..." he stared at everyone shaking his fist before he conceded once again. "Aw, screw it! Just go! We'll meet at the end of the ravine within thirty minutes! If anyone doesn't make it back I swear I'll beat the living daylights out of you!" he pulled out his sword. "Alright then, everyone! Split and let's move!" Everyone began charging off in different directions in search for their missing friends.

* * *

The rain began to intensify further when Libra snuck through the lines. His eyes were wearily searching for the blue haired prince, brother of the exalt he and his comrades had failed to save.

Thunder boomed and Libra hid by a wall. The war monk bit his bottom lip in anger and frustration at their failure. At his failure. So many of his friends had lost their lives and he had nothing but a barely breathing sister and a dead brother to show for it.

Libra gripped his axe and tears formed at the edge of his eyes before he quickly rubbed them away. He took in a deep breath before pushing himself off the wall and ran again.

A familiar sound echoed from above and Libra's blood turned ice cold. His face turned to a snarl when he looked up, finding a squad of Plegian riders from up above as another roar of thunder sounded.

One of the wyvern shrieked again and suddenly made its way to the ground. Libra hid behind another dirt wall. The wyvern landed and began to thrash around wildly, the rider immediately hopped off and turned to comfort the winged beast.

The rider's comrades yelled from above and the man yelled back, waving them off with one hand toward the battlefield. The fliers all looked at each other and then back at their friend on the ground before one of them nodded toward him and yelled once more. They all then began to make their way toward the frontlines.

The rider gently rubbed the wyvern's nose and quietly shushed the beast. Libra could barely make the sound of a quiet whimper coming from the wyvern through the rain before another crash of thunder echoed again. His features flashed to anger at the sight when he remembered the horrors he and his friends had endured before slowly making his way closer to the two.

The head of the wyvern perked up once again before the rider calmed it once more.

"...Hey, hey. Shh... Don't worry, Saela. Shh... Don't worry. Again, it's just thunder. It's just a bunch of loud noise, it won't hurt you. I've told you this a million times. I promise," the wyvern whimpered again and the rider chuckled. "Heh, you're such a fraidy cat. How can such a big, strong dragon such as yourself be scared by some measly thunder?" The wyvern affectionately snapped its jaws at the rider.

The rider chuckled once again when his wyvern suddenly shook. Confused because of the lack of thunder, the rider looked behind him and his eyes widen at the sight of a Ylissean priest swinging his axe at him.

The axe cut the rider in his ribs and violently threw him a couple of meters. The wyvern shrieked in anger and tried to attack the priest.

Libra ducked low as the wyvern snapped its jaws at him, his face emotionless when he brought his axe up and heavily swung against the beast's lower jaw.

The wyvern shrieked in pain as it fumbled backwards, shaking its head to try and recover from the attack. The wyvern opened its eyes and found Libra charging at its neck. The axe connected and the beast screamed in agony. Libra pulled his axe out and violently swung again, hot blood flying out with each swing.

The wyvern fell and its rider looked at his partner in horror. He screamed when Libra walked toward the whimpering beast, the priest's eyes empty as he brought his axe above his head and prepared to bring it crashing down.

From out of the blue, a javelin flew and hit Libra directly in the shoulder when he stumbled back in pain. He looked up, enraged at the sight of another Plegian soldier sliding down one of the dirt walls and placed himself between the dying wyvern and the priest.

The soldier leaned into his lance at a defensive stance while glaring at Libra before he shouted toward the rider, "Oi! You alright, sir?"

The rider quickly nodded, "Y-yeah. Please, don't let him kill Saela!"

The soldier turned back to face Libra with his eyebrow raised, "_Him_? Mate, I think you were knocked too hard in the noggin there. She's clearly a lady," Libra growled in response.

The soldier gritted his teeth, "Oi! We don't have to fight! None of us want to do this! Exalt Emmeryn gave her life so we can avoid fighting! We were there! We saw what happened! Please! Don't you understand the meaning of her sacri-!" Libra charged forward as he jumped into the air, screaming as he brought his axe down on the Plegian soldier.

The soldier brought his lance up to try and block the attack with the pole, but his eyes widened as the staff shattered in two. Libra's axe smashed into the man's collarbone, lodging itself deep into the man's body. The man screamed just as his comrade did.

Libra yanked at his axe and the man flew forward as the weapon came loose. The soldier gave a bloodcurdling scream when he withered on the ground, cursing loudly. Libra walked forward to the soldier and stared down on the man, the war monk's hairs covering his eyes.

The soldier rocked back and forth as Libra neared, his face enraged while he watched his executioner. As Libra brought his axe into the air the soldier screamed, "You bitch!" The axe came down and the man became still.

The rider stared in horror as he watched the back of the Ylissean priest kill one of his comrades. The priest bent down to pick up his axe and the soldier's body slowly lifted before falling back to the ground as the weapon came loose.

The rider turned his head when he heard Saela whimper before he looked back at the priest already making his way back to the dragon. The rider got up and ran over to where his partner was before he fell in the mud once again, hissing in pain when he did so.

The priest walked closer and closer as his axe hung ominously by his side. The rider sat with his back leaning against Saela with the wyvern still whimpering in pain and fear.

The Plegian cried.

"Please! Please! Please don't hurt her! She's only just a kid! She's been afraid of thunder and other loud noises ever since she was a hatchling! The army almost killed her because they thought she was no good! I spent so long trying to convince them not to do it! Please! She's like family to me!"

The rider stared up in despair as Libra stood before him, axe swinging by his side. Libra looked coolly down on the rider before he gripped his axe with both hands and brought it above his head.

The Plegian teared as he closed his eyes, "Please…"

The sound of a horse echoed in the distance and the rider looked up to find the priest being knocked to the ground when the horse rammed him. The rider looked up expecting his comrades but was shocked to find a woman with blonde hair and a parasol dressed in pink along with another woman with short, dark hair and priestly robes riding in the back. The blonde haired woman was pointing her staff in Libra's face with the green light illuminating his features.

"Libra!" Maribelle shouted. "This soldier surrendered! He is begging for mercy! How dare you try and still take his life!"

Libra stared back at Maribelle with a shocked look on his face before he turned to a scowl once again. "I cannot forgive him…"

"But you're a priest!" Maribelle started.

"Yes. But there are some sins that cannot be forgiven," Libra growled. He looked at the injured rider, "It was because of men like him that my friends are gone. Because men like him they can't live another day-!"

"Libra!" Maribelle shouted.

"They are the very spawns of Grima himself!" Libra screamed. "I cannot turn the other cheek when there is no other cheek left!" He slowly began to stand up.

Rage flashed across Maribelle's face while she continually tried to block the path between Libra and the injured rider. Her determination faltering when she saw him pick up his axe.

Maribelle looked back when she heard Naomi quietly speak up, "Libra…"

Libra stopped in his tracks, "Naomi…?" Naomi nodded before she brought her right leg over the horse's saddle and fell to the floor, her strength still weakened. Libra worriedly call out, "Naomi!"

Naomi recovered and slowly crawled her way over to the injured rider, the rider stared back at her with a look of uncertainty. Naomi brought out her staff as she tried to give a smile toward the man before she placed a hand on his ribs.

Libra spoke up again, "Naomi, what are you doing?"

"Only hours ago did Exalt Emmeryn sacrifice her life to show us her willingness for peace without bloodshed," Naomi answered. "You obviously didn't see. I'll show you again."

"What? How did you? I thought you were unconscious?" Libra asked, confused.

"I was conscious, but only for a moment," she continued. "But in that one moment, I saw something, along with everyone else, an action so powerful that it will forever be ingrained in both my heart and mind."

Maribelle stepped in, "I understand what you mean Naomi, but the middle of a battlefield isn't the safest place to heal someone."

Naomi turned back to the rider, "I know. It will only be for a moment. We'll meet with the others as soon as I'm done," she placed a hand on the rider's ribs again before the man slowly grabbed her arm.

Libra angrily stepped forward before Maribelle's horse blocked him once again. Naomi stared at the rider with confusion on her face before he spoke up, "Wait. Heal Saela. I can manage for now," Naomi stared for a couple more seconds before slowly nodding and shifted a little bit closer to the injured wyvern.

Saela whimpered in pain as Naomi placed her hands over the wyvern's body, the violent wounds glowing green. Everyone stared in silence as Naomi worked on the healing process. Libra looked with confusion at Naomi before turning his head to Maribelle. The noblewoman staring back at him before back to the girl.

Naomi continued for a couple more minutes before she spoke up, "She's a beautiful wyvern... If you can get past all the injuries," she turned to the rider, "Saela? Was it?"

The Plegian slowly nodded, "Y-yes, ma'am."

Naomi smiled warmly at him, "She's much more quieter than to the ones I'm used to," Libra's face darkened.

"Really now?" the rider inquired. "Well, normally she's much more playful… But because of these circumstances…" he angrily glared at Libra who growled back.

Naomi looked at Libra's feet, unwilling to meet his gaze, "I-It's not his fault. He and I, we've… had some bad… experiences with wyvern in the past," The rider stared at Naomi before it slowly clicked in his mind.

"Oh…"

"I'm sorry," the rider looked back at the ground, now it was he who was unwilling to meet her gaze. "None of us wanted this. I'm sorry for the loss of your friends. I guess it's unreasonable for me to ask you to help heal Saela."

Naomi sighed and shook her head, closing her eyes to try and force back the coming tears, "D-don't worry. It's fine," the rider solemnly looked back.

A few more minutes passed before the rider spoke up again, "Hey, uh, there were a couple of guys like myself some time ago… They were heading to the front lines to try and fight you guys off," he looked at Naomi. "I'm sorry. But… do you know if they...?" Naomi turned back to her work and closed her eyes, unwilling to answer. The rider's face fell when she did that and he turned back to the floor, his head hanging as he slowly let out a, "Oh…" Naomi looked back at the Plegian as he closed his eyes and quietly cursed, "Fuck…" Naomi teared herself away and silently went back to her work.

A couple more minutes passed and the process was done. Hot sweat slid down Naomi's face as she turned to face the fully healed Saela. Saela rubbed her head against the priestess's face.

The rider smiled when he turned to Naomi, "Thank you…"

Naomi smiled as she stared back at the rider, noticing for the first time the features of the young man. Short, light brown hair that was lightly trimmed at the side. Auburn eyes and light skin that went well with the red, wyvern uniform he wore. Naomi smiled as she admitted to herself that he was slightly handsome.

"You're welcome."

The rider turned to Saela and rubbed her sides, "Hey there, kiddo. You look all better now," Saela lightly growled. He turned back to Naomi while he continued to rub Saela, "Thank you. Thank you. And a thousand times more, thank you. I don't know what I would have done had I lost her."

Naomi waved it off, feeling slightly weak, "It's fine."

The rider stared at the ground with his hand still on Saela's belly before looking back up, "You know, this entire time. I don't think I ever got your name."

Naomi sat there as she looked up at Libra, the priest staring emotionlessly at the back of the Plegian's head; and then she looked at Maribelle, whose face was also indifferent. She turned back to the rider and answered, "Naomi."

The Plegian smiled, "That's a beautiful name."

Naomi smiled back, "Thank you. And may I have the pleasure of learning yours?"

The rider looked back at Libra and gave another glare at the war monk before turning back and answering.

"Aaron."

The smile from Naomi's face faded as she hauntedly turned to face Libra, the anger from the war monk's face disappeared and his expression fell. He turned to face Maribelle who also stared back in shocked disbelief.

As Libra looked at Maribelle, from the corner of his eye he finally noticed the large, orange armor of Kellam and a couple others standing in the distance with Aaron still hanging in the knight's arms. The boy's body still unbreathing.

The axe slipped from Libra's fingers and splashed in the mud. The monk fell to his knees and brought his hands to his face when he began to cry.

The rider, Aaron, turned back and was surprised to find the emotionless priest suddenly break down into tears. He looked back at Naomi with confusion on his face.

Naomi continued to sit silently while she stared at the floor, her hands gripped against her thighs as tears slid down her face. Aaron stared at the crying priest, unsure of what to do. His fingers that weren't still holding his injured ribs slowly made their way to Naomi's hands.

"Hey…"

Naomi bit her lip when she looked up, trying to wipe the tears away before she did so. She paused for a moment before trying to brave another smile.

"I'm… sorry. I don't know what came over me."

The rider looked pained.

Naomi closed her eyes and slowly exhaled before opening them again, "Hey… Aaron?"

"Yes?" he responded.

"Your side. You're still injured, let me help you with that," she brought out her staff again.

Aaron paused, "But you look exhausted. I don't want you to strain yourself more than you have to."

Naomi leaned closer to him while her hands began to glow green, placing her left on his thigh and the other over his wound, "Please, let me heal you," she softly whispered. Aaron blushed at the close proximity and the sudden warmth of her hand on his leg. Realizing the beauty of the girl as she leaned her forehead softly against his, closing her eyes.

"Naomi, I could-" Maribelle started.

"It's fine," the girl cut her off.

Naomi's breathing became much more heavy while the wound slowly healed, her body swaying back and forth. Aaron's eyes widened in fear when he grabbed her arm, "H-hey. You don't need to push yourself too much!"

Naomi slowly shook her head, "Don't worry… I'm almost done," The rider stared helplessly at the girl.

Soon the wound healed and Aaron lightly touched his rib where the axe made contact. Weary of the thought of pain but was surprised to find he felt none.

He looked up to thank Naomi once again before he saw her swaying much more violently this time, "H-hey! Naomi!" Libra looked up.

Naomi opened one of her eyes and gave a small smile before falling forward into Aaron's arms. The rider shocked as she began to wrap her arms around him.

"...Aaron… That's a beautiful name…" she whispered.

"Hey. Oi!" Aaron spoke up once again. Libra crawled forward.

"Naomi?" Libra quietly let out.

She turned to him, her head still leaning against Aaron's chest as she let out a weak smile, "Guess I lied... looks like I won't be meeting up with the others after all. I'll be meeting a different group..."

She frowned.

"Libra… Please. This isn't you. Don't use the death of our friends as a means for revenge. Don't insult them like that. Don't hate. Only the unloved hate. Learn to forgive… like we've been taught to forgive... Just like…" she gulped. "Just like… Exalt Emmeryn did. Let her sacrifice save you… even if we couldn't save her," Libra teared further. "We'll be… seeing you… Chance… Isaac… Adam… Joanna… Aaron…" the rider blinked. "...The others… and I…we'll be... seeing you…" Naomi smiled. "I love you..."

Naomi became limp in Aaron's arms as the two men frantically called for her.

"Naomi?"

"Naomi!"

* * *

Chrom charged toward another group of Plegians as they held their weapons in defensive stances. The prince gripped Falchion in his right hand while he ran, spinning and slashing his blade across the soldiers' necks when he neared.

The men fell and more reinforcements arrived, Chrom sprinted toward the enemy and lunged forward, stabbing one soldier through the chest. Another brought his axe in the air and brought it down before Chrom blocked the strike. The prince immediately spun again and slashed through the man's lower torso.

Another soldier attacked with the same move as Chrom blocked it once again, throwing the man off balance while Chrom sweeped his blade upwards and struck a second fighter. Chrom ran forward and stabbed an incoming soldier through the throat before rolling off the man's back when the he fell forward. Chrom immediately brought Falchion down and smashed the skull of another fighter.

The axe wielding soldier that lost his balance ran back to Chrom and swung his axe down once again, the prince again blocked the attack before swiftly spinning by his side and impaling him through the lower back.

An archer ran and took position about fifteen feet away from Chrom and took aim. The prince caught a quick glimpse of the archer when another soldier ran in front to attack him. Chrom punched the soldier in the face and pulled the man in front of him when the archer let fire, the arrow striking his comrade in the back.

The archer growled as he prepared a second arrow. Chrom tossed the body to the side before he chucked Falchion through the air; the blade spinning as it struck the archer dead center in the chest. The archer recoiled back while Chrom charged at him to retrieve his weapon, stopping when another soldier lunged with his lance forward as the lord grabbed the polearm and shoved himself into the man.

The soldier fell back as Chrom rammed the lower end of the lance into the man's chest before smacking it once again against the side of his head. Chrom crouched with the spear and ran the man through, immediately letting the weapon go as the soldier was shoved into the air. Chrom turned back to the archer and ran again as he pulled Falchion out from the man's chest before punching him in the face.

The archer fell and another soldier attacked from behind as Chrom blocked it once more before slashing the soldier's gut.

More and more soldiers threw themselves at Chrom in a desperate attempt to stop the man's rampage. Chrom spun and swung his sword every which way in an incredible fury as he yelled, a wave of blood appearing with each swing.

A pile of bodies and dismembered limbs laid bleeding by Chrom's feet as the prince breathed heavily. He looked up to find one last soldier pointing his lance at him with a look of fear in his eyes. Chrom became enraged once more as he roared, yanking Falchion out from one of the bodies and sprinted toward the frightened soldier.

The soldier immediately dropped his weapon and tried to turn back and run. Chrom lunged forward and stabbed the Plegian through the back and out his chest as the soldier was thrown forward. Chrom pulled Falchion out from his body before he smashed and dug his heel into the soldier's wound. The soldier screamed in agony before Chrom impaled him through the back of the head.

Chrom huffed as he slowly pulled Falchion from the soldier's body; his bloodlust still unsated when he began to recover. He stood up when his sword finally became free from the man's skull, the blade dripped as it was covered in blood.

Chrom crouched down and held a part of the man's shirt, wiping the blood and dirt away from his blade before he stood back up. He looked at the destroyed body and grunted in disgust at the dead animal before he continued to walk forward.

Once Chrom turned the corner of a muddy hillside, he looked to his left and found General Mustafa along with several other Plegian soldiers standing guard around him. Almost all of the guards were regular foot soldiers with lances in hand with an exception of a wyvern and its rider. Mustafa looked at Chrom with pained eyes.

Chrom's face darkened before he stalked his way toward the group.

The Plegian guards shifted on their feet as the prince neared while the rider in the center spoke through clenched teeth, "Get ready to charge, men…" Chrom ominously twirled Falchion in his hands.

Chrom stood about fifty feet away before the rider leaned into his mount and prepared to give the command to attack. But as he was about to give the signal, General Mustafa placed a hand on the rider's leg and walked past. The foot soldiers stared at the general in confusion when he moved past them and the rider frantically called out, "General! Sir! Come back here!"

"No," Mustafa let out, staring intently at Chrom while he pulled out his axe. "I will not allow any more of my men to suffer while I hide in the back. Let me fight for my life or allow me to lose it."

"Sir!" the rider called out again.

"Wait for me, Lieutenant," Mustafa calmly replied, stopping when he saw Chrom do just the same.

The general sighed.

"Here we are… Prince Chrom," Mustafa began. Chrom stared back with malice in his eyes as lightning flashed followed by another boom from up above. The general stayed quiet waiting for Chrom to respond. The rain fell harder and the wind began to picked up speed.

Chrom stared back for several more seconds before he took in a deep breath and exhaled through his nose. General Mustafa bit his lip when the prince refused to answer, "Is there truly no other way for this to end other than bloodshed?"

Chrom breathed again, "No."

The general closed his eyes and slowly inhaled and exhaled, his grip tightened around the handle of his axe. Mustafa opened his eyes when he sadly spoke out, "...Very well then," he began making his way toward Chrom, who did the same. "I do not wish to fight you, Prince Chrom, but you leave me no choice. Under oath to my king I cannot disobey my orders. Let us make battle, you and I," Chrom charged forward.

Chrom arched his shoulder back and brought Falchion down in a one handed swing; Mustafa brought his left hand up and blocked the blade with his metal cuff, parrying the attack back as he shoved Chrom to the side.

Chrom stumbled and recovered, immediately bringing Falchion up to block Mustafa's axe. He soon let the blade fall as he twirled to his left and swung his blade toward the general's back. Mustafa fell forward and rolled, narrowly dodging the swing. The Plegian soldiers watched with mixed anticipation.

Chrom once again swung his blade at the man's ribs as the general held his axe parallel to his body and blocked with the pole. Chrom swung again furiously with incredible speeds, lunging again and again in a quick fury of strikes. Mustafa quickly blocked each attack as he nimbly hopped on the balls of his feet. The large man was much more agile than he looked.

Chrom brought his blade over his head and forcefully brought it down; Mustafa blocked the attack yet again and then let the prince's blade slide down his axe. Chrom stumbled and the Plegian general took the opportunity and smashed Chrom in the face with his large fist.

The prince fell to the ground as Falchion escaped from his hand. Chrom angrily looked up and wiped the blood from his mouth as Mustafa stood from where he was, breathing heavily. The general looked at Falchion laying in the mud and then back to Chrom as the blue haired prince quickly grabbed the royal blade and rolled back to his feet.

Mustafa blinked for a second and prepared another defensive stance, "Come."

Chrom charged forward once again.

Mustafa blocked each fury of strikes as he slowly stepped backwards, the prince began to tire and his movement became sloppy. The general struck him in the face once more.

Chrom fell but quickly recovered, charging once more at his opponent before leaping into the air and lunging forward. Mustafa blocked the attack with the broad side of his axe before looking in surprise as Chrom's fist connected with his face.

The general stumbled back and looked up just in time as Chrom brought his sword down and slashed with his blade diagonally across the man's torso. The Lieutenant yelled and jumped off his mount, trying to run forward before the other Plegian soldiers held him back.

Mustafa laid on his side facing the ground as Chrom went for a hard kick in the ribs. The general grabbed the prince's foot before it made contact and heaved him off the floor. Chrom fell hard on his back with his cape by this point completely covered in mud. The man picked himself up as he watched the general do the same, his left hand holding his right shoulder where the wound from Chrom's blade had started.

The two men were breathing heavily.

Chrom's intense bloodlust by this point had completely disappeared when he realized how alone he was right now. The Shepherds were long gone by this point and he had only himself to defend his life.

His focus was no longer on killing as many Plegians as possible, but was now on trying to survive. Mustafa slowly walked forward.

Chrom watched as the Plegian general struggled to keep himself together, wincing in pain as his left arm was incapacitated while holding his shoulder. The prince closed his eyes and his heartbeat began to slow. He tried to focus his thoughts.

Lightning flashed and thunder boomed. Chrom opened his eyes and charged at the general, swinging his blade as the general once again blocked.

Chrom weaved low and sweeped one of his legs beneath the general's feet. Mustafa stumbled and fell to one knee, automatically bringing his axe up to block Chrom's downward strike.

Falchion bounced off the axe and was quickly diverted to Mustafa's right side as the general tried in vain to block the attack. He was unable to do so as his right arm tried its best to bend at the odd angle.

The general screamed when Chrom smashed one of his ribs. Chrom brought Falchion over his head again and crushed his blade into Mustafa's right collarbone. He passed Falchion only to his right hand and stabbed his blade through the front of the man's chest; pulling it out once more and reversed his grip when he brought the sword to the general's backside and stabbed again through his back and out from his chest.

Lightning flashed and time stood still. Nothing moved but the droplets of falling rain.

Chrom pulled his blade out from Mustafa's back and the general fell forward, trying to catch himself with his weakened arms before he collapsed and violently coughed up blood. The Plegian soldiers were too shocked to move.

As Chrom stepped back from the heavily beaten general with Falchion still in his hand; the anger in his eyes slowly began to fade and softened while he watched the suffering man.

The general continued coughing up more piles of blood.

The Plegian soldiers that were holding back the Lieutenant still had their hands on him but had no force to their grip. Theirs arms fell away when he shoved past them and suddenly ran forward.

"General! General!"

Mustafa struggled to slowly pick himself off the floor, mud and blood mixed together as two large gaping holes were seen through the man's chest. Chrom watched in disbelief at the somehow indestructible man as he slowly limped himself forward. Falchion stayed by his side when the general finally stood about a foot away from him.

The Plegian general tried his best to stand up as straight as he could before he quickly leaned forward and grunted in pain. His hand automatically flying to his ribs when they cracked, doing his best to ignore the incredible pain and the rapid loss of blood. His mind began to fade as he brought his arm around Chrom and pulled him into a one armed hug. The Lieutenant suddenly stopped running.

Chrom stood unmoving in shocked silence while the general held him close. His blood began to mix with Chrom's clothes.

Mustafa slowly breathed before he quietly whispered to Chrom, "Good fight there… there, lad."

Chrom's heartbeats began to slow when he held his breath, unsure of what was going on. His arms slowly moved up as he returned the hug, Falchion still in his hand.

The general's legs suddenly began to buckle as he pulled Chrom down with him. Chrom did not fight back.

Mustafa laid on his knees with his arm still wrapped around the prince, "Live… Prince Chrom. Survive. Know that not all Plegians wish to see the blood of Ylisseans being spilled. Remember that when you become exalt..."

Chrom couldn't help but automatically reply when the word slipped from his lips, "Sir…"

Mustafa smiled at the response, "Thank you… all I ask now… is that you spare my men," Chrom looked up as the Plegian Lieutenant stood a couple feet away, the foot soldiers in the back staring as well.

Guilt filled Chrom's heart as he looked back to the dying general and nodded his head, "Yes, sir…" Mustafa smiled.

Chrom slowly let go of the general and carefully placed him on the ground, the rain splashed off his body and mud surrounded his entirety. The Lieutenant walked over and knelt by the general's side, Chrom stood up and placed Falchion away as he did so.

Rain continue to fall and running footsteps were heard from behind. Chrom turned around and found Ian sprinting toward him with anger plastered all over his face. He spoke up when the tactician neared, "Ian, I-"

Ian ran up and socked Chrom in the face with every fiber of his being. The prince fell and blood oozed from the corner of his mouth, he looked up and saw Ian breathing heavily over him with his fist still shaking.

Ian furiously shouted, "YOU FUCKING DUMBASS! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!?"

Chrom was shocked as his hand covered his cheek. He started again, "Ian, I-!"

"WE COULD HAVE LOST YOU, YOU FREAKIN' MORON! BLOODY FREDERICK TOOK AFTER YOUR DUMBASS AND SO DID LIBRA! BECAUSE OF YOU WE COULD HAVE LOST SO MANY MORE LIVES!"

Chrom became very quiet.

Ian continued to breath heavily for several more seconds before he attempted to calm himself down. Finally noticing the dying general and the Plegian soldiers standing in the background. Ian opened his mouth once and then closed it, and then opening it once again before he asked, "What the hell is this?" Chrom looked back at the general and then forward once again, unable to meet Ian's eyes.

Ian's hand fell while he let out a sigh. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose before he spoke through his teeth, "I freakin' hate you, Chrom…"

Chrom bit his lip when Ian lowered his hand and offered to pick him up. Ian sighed, "Are you alright, mate? You had us bloody worried back there."

Chrom nodded when he accepted the hand, "Uh, yeah… I'm fine."

Ian nodded in response, "That's good," he turned to Mustafa and his Lieutenant; the general still bleeding on the muddy ground with the large holes in his chest when the tactician asked, "Is... there anything we can do? I know we're enemies, but I know you didn't want to fight."

The general coughed up more blood before weakly waving the offer off with a finger, "It was… inevitable... Sacrifices must be made for the greater good."

"Are you sure?" Ian asked.

"We have vulneraries and elixirs back at camp. We'll heal the general when we get there," the Lieutenant answered.

"No," Mustafa interjected. "Save those bottles… for the lads who need them," he coughed again. "My time is done."

"But general!" the Lieutenant spoke up. "The fighting is done! We all got passed our differences! There is no sense in just letting you die!"

Mustafa chuckled, "It may seem that way, but if… I were to return to the king. He would see nothing but a broken man who has failed in his orders," the Lieutenant clenched his teeth and Mustafa exhaled. "He would… murder my wife and child for that failure… No, I would rather give my life than allow that to happen. Sacrifices must be made."

The Lieutenant argued, "That's a damn, stupid sacrifice."

Everyone stood still when the rest of the Shepherds began to emerge through the mist, watching and unsure of what to make of the scene before them. Ian stared in silence as the general soon began to choke and the Lieutenant began patting his back. The tactician placed a hand on Chrom's shoulder and said, "C'mon, Chrom. Let's go."

Chrom continued staring as the guilt ate at his heart, his hands turning to fists before they slowly came undone, "Yeah… okay, Ian," he crouched down and placed a hand on the general's leg. "I'm… sorry, for my actions, general. If you manage to survive, please, let me know. I wish to thank you proper for the kindness you have done when I see you again."

The general barely shook his head, "No. Only… in the next life, lad."

Chrom sighed, "I understand," he stood back up and nodded toward Ian. "C'mon, let's go."

Chrom walked past Ian with his head still slightly bowed. Ian turned to leave when the general spoke up, "Hey, you. Boy... The one with the white hair and coat," Ian turned back.

"Yes?"

"He... said your name was Ian, correct?" he motioned to Chrom. Ian cautiously nodded his head. Mustafa lightly smiled, "I had a friend once. Back in the last war… when Plegia and Ylisse last traded blows... he had a nephew with the same name…" Ian stared back. "I... wonder how he's... doing…" he closed his eyes.

Ian stared with a confused look at the general and then at the Lieutenant. The Lieutenant gripped Mustafa's limp hand when he shook his head at the ashen haired tactician, showing he was just as confused about the general's words as he was.

Ian sighed and then turned back, making his way back to the Shepherds as they prepared to leave.

The Lieutenant closed his eyes and bit his lip as tears began to roll, not noticing the general's hand tighten around his own. His eyes opened when Mustafa quietly spoke.

"Alec…"

"Y-yes, sir?" the Lieutenant replied, his hope rising that General Mustafa might still live.

The general pointed after Ian, "Do you… see that man's coat?"

"Yes, sir," he quickly replied.

"What does it remind you of?" Mustafa asked.

The Lieutenant thought for a moment while still confused at the general's question. He spoke when the answer came to him, "...It looks like one of the old coat uniforms issued to wyvern officers back in the war more than fifteen years ago, sir."

Mustafa smiled, "Correct," the Lieutenant turned back to Mustafa with a questioning look in his eye. "You have a good eye. And a good memory. It'll… serve you well… when you become general…"

"Sir?" more tears formed in the rider's eye.

Mustafa's tight grip around his Lieutenant's hand slowly began to weaken and his mind began to fade. Light formed at the edge of his vision before it engulfed it whole. He spoke with his last thoughts to himself.

"_Ian, huh? I wonder…"_

And as Plegian General Mustafa let out his final breath, the warm desert rains continued to cleanse the old veteran, mixing with the tears of a crying Lieutenant.

* * *

**And there ends chapter 5. And don't worry, guys. I'm not aiming to turn this story into a full blown tragedy, it's not going to be all doom and gloom. There will be much more lighter parts and some form of comedy later on. ****But back to a more regular note, I wrote this chapter while reading a few other Fire Emblem fanfictions and noticed how quickly the enemy seem to die in those. Fight scenes usually end up with the Shepherds powering through them with a small mention of how quick the enemy falls. This in the end takes some of the immersion away from me. **

**This is mainly due to the fact that when I first started playing Awakening, it was more of a joke to my younger sister because I didn't take the game seriously. I didn't play DS games much before and my only experience with Fire Emblem was from Smash Brothers. And so to enforce the joke about how much I didn't care about what happens to my forces in the game, I selected Lunatic Classic mode for my first run (It wasn't Ian though because this story is based on my second playthrough).**

**Long story short, I became addicted and suffered for hours trying to get past the beginning stages with everyone alive and never once did I think, "Boy, this game is easy," Eventually over time though I finished the game. It was a long but fun journey, and what started as a joke ended up with me deciding to write a fanfiction for this very same game. Funny how things turn out. **

**So in the end, I attempted to make the enemy soldiers in this chapter, and a tad bit in the last, with having some form of intelligence and competence in combat, more so during Frederick's fight scene, as opposed to just them walking in front of the Shepherds, getting a heart attack, and suddenly drop down dead. **

**Thank you guys once again for the reviews and I apologize for the unnecessarily long author's note/rant/story time. I just realized how easy it is to rant here, haha. Thanks again, guys. **


	7. Chapter 6: Coming Around

**Hey, everyone and Happy New Years! Hope you guys had an awesome Christmas and a good time with friends and family. I'm building a computer right now and now I just need to wait for my OS to come in and then I'll be set. Thing is going to run like a beast, I can't wait. Also remember when I said I was going to have more time to write this chapter and may be able to upload a little bit more frequently during my break from school? Well, it was true, I did have more time and I did write, but unfortunately even during that time I only managed to upload one chapter and it's this one. Sorry about that. Reason why I took so long was simply because of laziness. Chapter setups are one of my least favorite things about writing but it is necessary. So unfortunately during the beginning stages of this chapter, I would write a couple of sentences and then I would go, "Phew, that was a lot of work. I think I'm going to go play some TF2 now."**

**Yeah, not the best work ethic. Most of this was done in the last couple of days, but unlike Chapter 4, I didn't go overboard with the grind despite this having more words. Anyways, again, I hope you guys have an awesome New Year and I hope you guys enjoy this new chapter. **

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**Chapter 6: Coming Around **

The ride wasn't smooth. The wagons rolled across the muddy ground with two horses in tow, braving the rains while they continued their journey. Ian looked from inside the wagon at the two beasts of burden leading the caravan while they sloshed through the mud, surprised to find that the horses still had not slipped or twisted their ankles.

The tactician looked around the interior of the transport, sitting in between both Khan Basilio and Khan Flavia while he sat across from Chrom, Lissa, and Frederick. He looked to his left once again and saw the driver for their specific wagon: A pink haired woman wearing a cloak and hood similar to everyone else, her back towards them and with eyes staring straight ahead while her hands held the horse's reins.

Ian's hands held the hard seat of the wagon beneath him and felt nothing but wet wood across his fingertips. He looked up for the hundredth time at the white covered canvas and once again noticed little droplets of water from the rain seeping through. His rear became sore at the uncomfortable seat and slightly readjusted himself, allowing for a momentary reprieve before the soreness slowly came back.

Both Khans were unnaturally quiet for their character. Flavia sat to Ian's right and had her arms crossed with her head tilted slightly downwards while staring off into space. Her unfocused eyes subconsciously looking at the floorboards near Frederick's feet. Basilio was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and both hands held together.

Frederick tried to sit up as straight as he could but still had a slight exhausted hunch while sitting at the back of the wagon; his normally well polished armour was muddy and dented with traces of dried blood that seeped from his left shoulder. Chrom sat across from Basilio as the prince was hunched over with one hand covering part of his face while the other rested on his knee. His one uncovered eye sunken in grief. Lissa sat in between the two while closely hugging herself and bringing her legs together to create as much warmth as she possibly could while she shivered in her wet clothes.

Ian stared for several seconds at the shivering princess before he slowly reached for his coat when he noticed it was wet and heavy with water. The tactician took off the hooded garment and began wringing its entirety while everyone else simply ignored the water falling from the coat onto an already wet floor.

Once he was finished, he set his coat aside as it formed a wet, unattractive pile. Ian wiped his hands on his trousers and stretched his back a bit before picking up his fire tome and walking over to Lissa.

Lissa stared at the tactician with a confused look for a quick second before automatically scooting to the side to let Ian sit. Ian opened up the tome to a random page and then quickly swiped a hand over its contexts, a small fireball appearing in his hand as he slowly brought it forward to Lissa to warm her up. She slowly let go of her shoulders and hovered her hands near the flames, giving Ian a small thank you as the very warm light danced before her.

Ian had no fear of the wooden wagon catching on fire while he held the ball of flame; the constant rain outside had long seeped through the canvas and the planks which made chances of a spontaneous combustion extremely low.

Ian looked around as everyone in the wagon stared at the small ball of flame with an almost hungered look in their eyes. The tactician caught on as he brought his other hand through the fire and held a second ball while offering them both to his sides. Everyone but the pink haired woman leaned a little bit closer to the flames as the once dark carriage now gave a warm, comforting glow.

For several minutes no one said anything as they huddled by the small flames, bringing their hands forward while their clothes slowly dried. Soon afterwards everyone began to lean back while the hot lights continued to flicker in Ian's hands, content now with the warmth and the light.

Ian's arms slowly began to tire a bit but kept the flames going. He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees with his hands still slightly stretched out before he looked at Basilio and asked, "Hey, where do you think we're going?"

The large, bald headed khan readjusted himself in his seat and crossed his arms before letting out a low answer, "Originally we were supposed to head back to Regna Ferox after the ordeal, but what with this blasted rain I don't think that's going to happen."

"So what's going to happen now?" Lissa asked.

"We found a deserted castle on our way to the capital and already set up shop there in case we needed a place to rest," Flavia answered. "Surprised a place like that hasn't been touched by Gangrel after all this time."

"Lady has a good eye. Hot headed but still has a good eye," Basilio added in.

"I have _two_ good eyes, oaf," Flavia corrected while grinning at the West Khan with two fingers pointed out. "That's what happens when you can actually see things. You tend to spot things out at a distance better."

Basilio grunted while shaking his head, "Give a woman a compliment and she still finds a way to take it as an insult."

Ian gave a slight grin as did Lissa with tears still in her eyes when Frederick spoke up, "So how much longer until we reach this castle?"

Basilio turned to the pink haired driver and asked, "Oi, Olivia. How much longer until we reach the castle?"

Olivia jumped a little before she nervously answered, "Oh, um, I believe we may be there in about thirty more minutes if we're going the right way."

"_If_ we're going the right way?" Ian asked while giving a skeptical look with his eyebrows raised.

Basilio laughed, "Ha! Don't worry about Olivia here! She knows where to go. She just second-guesses herself all the time. Incredibly talented girl! Hell, she's even one of the best damn dancers I've ever seen to boot!"

Olivia turned crimson.

"You've seen a lot of dancers, you pig," Flavia deadpanned.

"Which reinforces my statement about Olivia about being one of the best damn dancers around!" Basilio proudly boasted. "I'm qualified in this department! I'm practically a talent scout!"

"Uh huh…" Ian let out, finding it hard to imagine the large khan walking the continent looking for performers instead of fighting and drinking. "So why do you need so many dancers?" the tactician genuinely curious.

"Because I'm a man!" Basilio exclaimed as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. "Life as Khan is not always so easy. Sometimes you need to just unwind and enjoy life!"

"You didn't do anything weird with the dancers I hope?" Ian asked while Flavia and Basilio stared.

Flavia burst out laughing, "Ahahaha! Maybe! What with the way this man gets when drunk, I wouldn't be surprised if he accidently got a little _too_ familiar with the dancers!"

Olivia's face reddened even more at the conversation and Basilio scowled, "No, no I do not, Ian," trying his best to ignore the blonde haired khan's laughter. "I am able to hold my liquor. Very well, better than most men. However in the times I do get drunk, I most certainly do not do anything _weird _with the dancers," he crossed his arms and huffed before he awkwardly turned his head to Olivia and hesitantly asked, "...I don't, right?" the dancer frantically shook her head while blushing.

Basilio gave a sigh of relief and continued, "I may not act like it, but I do keep my work and my personal life separate and very professional."

"Oh really now?" Flavia mocked. "Because I remember always hearing stories about how the Reigning Khan would just up and disappear on some wild adventure or something."

Basilio burst out laughing, "Ha! Indeed! As I said, a man needs to unwind every now and then. It's good for the soul. Plus when he returns he is ready for another day as ruler!"

Flavia and Ian chuckled. Even Lissa gave a small laugh despite the painful events earlier that day. Chrom smiled for a quick second before looking back at the floor in a somber state.

The young prince quietly spoke up after several minutes, "So... who's the next ruler going to be for Ylisse?"

The laughter from the wagon quickly faded away as everyone looked at Chrom with his unexpected question. Ian looked toward his friend unsure of what to say while Basilio scratched the back of his head before he eventually answered, "...Boy, I believe you already know the answer to that question," Chrom looked up at the Khan while he held his breath and then let it out when he looked back down. Olivia glanced at the prince with a sympathetic stare before she turned back around and continued leading the horses.

For several long, awkward minutes the interior of the wagon was quiet. Flames crackled lightly in Ian's hands, the hard rain bounced off the roof of the canvas, and the horses whinnied while both their hoofs and the wagon's wheels dragged through the mud. Ian looked at the wall back toward where the rest of the caravan was while he wondered how all the other Shepherds were holding up.

Ian looked back at Chrom and noticed the prince's depressed stare toward the ground. He contemplated about what to say after several moments; multiple times opening and closing his mouth in his indecisiveness. Eventually he decided the best course of action for right now was simple small talk, "Hey, how's the jaw?"

Chrom looked at Ian, a tad surprised his friend was talking to him before he flatly responded, "It hurts."

Ian nodded, "Yeah… sorry about that."

"What happened to milord's jaw?" Frederick suddenly asked.

"It's fine, Frederick," Chrom waved it off. "Don't worry about it."

"Were you injured during the fight? How did it come to be?"

"Frederick. I said it was fine," Chrom started again.

"I shouldn't of let you run off on your own. I should have been-!"

"It's fine, Frederick!" Chrom snapped.

The great knight suddenly became very quiet at his lord's unexpected outburst. Everyone stared at Chrom with worried looks before he waved it off again and looked back toward the floor, "I said it's fine…" Ian eventually did the same while he silently cursed to himself about the failed attempt, deciding instead that maybe silence was the more preferred route.

The caravan continued for quite some time, following the muddy road as it waved its way toward a darkened castle in the background. Thunder and lightning appeared from above as they gave temporary light to the old ruins. The sound of mud soon gave way to the sound of hoofs on a stone path the nearer they got to the castle.

Soon the wagon came to a stop in the castle's front courtyard and everyone looked up; what stood before them were the remains of a small, but noble castle. Weeds and strong desert plants littered about the courtyard while an old water fountain that was once beautiful now laid empty and bare.

The castle, though small compared to the one in the capital and even more so to the one in Ylisstol, still stood at an impressive height.

Flavia spoke while she looked outside, "Looks like we're here."

"Good job, Olivia," Basilio said. The dancer quickly nodded.

Everyone began to make their way out of the wagons when a Feroxian soldier walked up to Flavia and saluted with one hand behind his back and another as a hard fist to his chest, "Welcome back, Regent Khan. The indoor encampment has been set up just as you ordered. It is ready to house both ours and the Ylissean forces as well as act as a triage if need be."

"Good," Flavia responded, her arms crossed. "Has the rest of our forces made it back yet?"

"Not yet, ma'am. Rain and mud are giving our guys hell out there. They are still several kilometers out."

"Hmm," Flavia mused. "Never accounted for the rain, but we didn't have enough wagons on hand for an expedition this sudden. Hope they are doing well…"

"They'll make it through," the soldier smirked. "They've fared worst."

Flavia laughed, "Ha! You're right! Nothing but a little hardship to harden Feroxian skin!" she turned back to the soldier. "Get these wagons out from under the rain and somewhere where they can't be easily seen. I don't want any blasted Plegians accidentally finding out we're here," The soldier gave a short yell while saluting before he turned around and walked back to his squad. The khan turned around and yelled at the Shepherds as they made their way inside.

Once inside, the Shepherds were greeted by the orange glow of several lanterns hanging across the castle walkways. There were two staircases on opposite sides of the hall that were connected by a walkway and railings when they reached the top. On the bottom was a straight path that led further down the hall and was filled with an endless row of fur covered tents. An obvious sign of the Feroxi occupation.

Flavia motioned everyone forward as they walked toward the end of the hall and up a third flight of stairs that connected to the upper halls of the two previous steps. Ian noticed as they walked by the Feroxian soldiers, the passing glances they gave the Shepherds and the Khans before continuing with their nightly rituals. A few making a couple of one worded acknowledgements toward the Shepherds when they passed by.

They entered a large but dimly lit room that held several windows overlooking the castle courtyard down below; multiple sleeping bags littered the room with a few Feroxi tents mixed in.

Flavia placed her hands on her hips and loudly announced, "Well, here it is. Here's your guy's sleeping quarters for the time being. Didn't have enough room downstairs and I'm very sure you guys like sticking together anyways," she turned around toward the group. "The guys downstairs also cooked up some grub if any of you feel like eating."

Stahl walked forward and counted the number of tents while everyone looked around the large room, "Hey, uh, ma'am? How come there are only five tents?"

Flavia turned around toward the green haired knight and gave a quasi-annoyed look, "Boy, you already know my name. You're not one of my men, call me by my actual name."

"But-" Stahl started.

"Do it…" Flavia's eyes narrowed.

Stahl let out a slow sigh, "Yes, Flavia…"

Flavia patted Stahl on the head while he slightly winced in pain at the motion, "Thaaaat's a good boy."

"So, Flavia, why are there only five tents?" Ian asked while he continued to watch Stahl get his head smacked in.

"Obvious reasons," Flavia lazily replied. "As I said, the Shepherds are a tight knit group, so I'm sure you all like staying together. But with that, there are also some females among you, and I'm very sure _they_ don't all want to stay together with you guys," She stopped patting Stahl on the head as the green haired man fell to the floor, a dazed look in his eyes as Sully walked forward and helped him up.

"Wouldn't it have just been easier to have separate rooms?" Ian asked.

Flavia looked annoyed, "Look, if you want segregated rooms so bad, move the tents yourself. Be my guest. If not then-"

"Alright, alright," Ian waved it off. "It's not that big of a deal, I was just curious."

Flavia smirked, "Alright then. Glad to hear it," she turned to look at Chrom who was ignoring the introductions and sat by himself staring at a lit fireplace. The Khan's smile fell, "Hey, if he decides he needs some more alone time, I could perhaps bring up another tent in case he needs it."

"Thanks," Ian said looking at Chrom. "That would be appreciated."

Flavia nodded, "If any of you need me I'll be in my room," and with that the East Khan walked out the door.

Ian turned around at the Khan's comment and raised an eyebrow, "_In my room? Why does she have her own room?" _he turned back and watched as everyone in the room slowly began to disperse; a large portion of the Shepherds staying quiet as they grieved in their own way while the others did what they could to comfort their friends.

Ian watched from a distance as Chrom stayed unblinking by the fireplace, his eyes in an endless stare as Lissa slowly sat down next to him and brought her knees to her chest. Despite the proximity, Chrom did not even notice his younger sister was even there.

A sigh escaped from Ian's lips while he watched the heartbreaking scene. He stood unknowingly with no plan to this situation and with his hands in his pockets as rainwater continued to drip from the seams of his coat. He turned around when he heard a soft voice behind him.

Olivia stood before Ian with her hands held to her chest while she nervously faced him, a slight blush forming at her cheeks. Ian stared at the pink haired girl for a couple of seconds all the while surprised and amazed by how beautiful she was. Parts of her hair were tied in long, but simple braids along with the rest that flowed past her shoulders; she wore a white headband with triangular designs and a thin, transparent fabric that attempted to cover her arms and legs. The rest of her coverings was almost nonexistent and her exposed skin had a very silky appearance to it. The two continued staring at each other before she finally spoke up.

"Um… hi. My name is Olivia. Basilio introduced me to you and the others while we were on our way here."

"Oh, hey," Ian said, almost unsure of what to say toward the dancer. "Yeah, I remember you."

Olivia gave a slight nod, "Basilio suggested I stay up here with you all and try to help in any way I can. So I may be sleeping here as well… if that's fine with you all."

Ian smiled, "No, no. It's fine. It's absolutely fine. We appreciate the extra help. Anything to help lighten the mood around here."

"Okay," Olivia replied while another awkward silence fell upon the two. She slowly turned her head toward a quiet Chrom in the background.

Ian followed Olivia's gaze as he caught her watching Chrom; the man still had an intense look on his face as his continued to watch the flames, "Do you think you can help him?" Ian asked.

Olivia continued staring and then looked back, "I don't think I can do much. I can help clean, cook, sew, and maybe help with any healing if I have to. But I'm no doctor or priest… so…"

"It's fine," Ian repeated. "You do what you can. We have enough people here to help cheer him up anyways."

"Okay," Olivia said.

Ian looked at Olivia while rubbing the back of his neck as another silence fell on the two, hesitating before he realized, "Hey, are your things already here or do you still to bring them up?"

Olivia looked up, "Oh, no. No, not yet. I'll go grab them now," she turned to leave.

"Do you need help?" Ian asked while taking a step forward.

"No! I'm mean, no. No, no, no, no. I'm fine. Absolutely fine. I can handle it myself, I don't want to bother you," she quickly spoke.

"Are you sure?" Ian became a little confused. "It won't be too much-"

"It's fine!" she quickly walked out the door.

Ian stood dumbfounded staring after Olivia's figure before the doors closed shut. He ran a hand through his hair before quietly muttering to himself, "Wonder what's up with her?" He soon shrugged it off and looked back around the room as it returned to the depressing silence that fell on its occupants.

Most of everyone had already picked where they were going to sleep for the night and just simply stood where they wanted to lost in thought. Ricken was sitting with his knees to his chest and his overly large mage hat sat sagging right next to him while the young boy tried to blink away any coming tears. Donnel stood while he covered his eyes with his trademark potted helmet. Lon'qu leaned against a wall with his arms crossed and eyes closed; the stoic swordsman's silence was much more deafening than usual. Gaius was quietly chewing on a lollipop by him. Panne was sitting by the fire trying to dry her fur and Tharja was seen by one of the windows trying to wring her clothes. Nowi was seen crying in a corner while Gregor knelt by her side and rubbed her back in an attempt to comfort her. Stahl walked about the room trying to cheer everyone up while Sully quietly followed. Kellam was a barely noticeable ghost as he followed the other two knights all the while picking up any wet clothing to hang for later.

Miriel stood while observing everyone else but held a hand tight to her chest; a pained look in her eyes as she quietly muttered her confusion as to why she felt the feeling of incredible sadness. Virion sat on one of the few seats in the room and was idly picking at his bow string. Maribelle was near a deathly silent Libra while he stared off into space. Vaike watched while trying to cheer them up before the noblewoman sent him a annoyed death glare before he fell silent once more. Cordelia stood off in one of the corners with her head faced toward the ground and hand tightly gripping one of her lances. Frederick was sitting by a wall with his head bowed down, his eyes held a very uncharacteristic look of shame in them every time he would look up and stare at Chrom before they slowly tilted back toward the floor. Sumia sat by him with her knees to her chest and her gaze constantly fixated on the blue haired prince. A single word fell from her lips while her heart broke staring at him, "Captain…"

Ian watched every single one from where he stood with his hands still in his pockets. Saddened as he was of Emmeryn's death, the depressing result he saw before him was too much to bear. He silently struggled with himself as he gripped his fists and let the depression in for just a moment. Quiet thoughts about how much they had lost in so little time weighed heavily on the tactician's shoulders.

Ian closed his eyes and breathed in heavily through his nose. He held his breath for several moments before breathing back out again; opening his eyes once more as he watched Chrom still in the same state and position since they arrived.

Stahl and Sully walked up to Ian as the green haired knight quietly spoke to him, "Everyone's all depressed."

"Seems to look that way," Ian agreed.

"It would probably be a good idea for them to get something to eat though. Flavia mentioned that the cooks downstairs made some food if we felt like eating."

Ian nodded, "Yeah, that would probably be a good idea."

Stahl nodded and looked about the room before nervously speaking up, "Hey, uh, everyone?" Most of the occupants in the room slowly turned their heads towards him and Stahl's face paled a bit before he started scratching the back of his head and gave a nervous smile, "I know it's kind of late and everyone's tired with… what happened today," his voice became quiet at the last part. "But we've been traveling all day and Flavia said there was food downstairs in case anyone was hungry. I think we should get something to eat so we can regain our strength."

Everyone continued staring and Stahl grew even more uncomfortable under their gazes. Ian spoke up after several awkward moments to help convince them to go, "Hey, Stahl's right. It's been a long day and we'll have even longer ones in the next few days… or weeks. But even though we're in mourning, some food may do us some good," Ian awkwardly looked around the room. "So… c'mon, guys."

"Please?" Stahl begged.

Everyone continued staring and Ian and Stahl wilted a bit under theirs gazes. Ian's hands dug deeper into his coat pockets while he quietly whispered to Stahl, "Crap…"

"This isn't good…" the young knight sweated.

After several more moments of awkward silence, a grunt was heard from the far side of the room. Lon'qu pushed himself from off the wall he was leaning on and began making his way towards the door, arms crossed and eyes still closed; Gaius following silently behind him. Soon one by one everyone got up and followed suit, eventually agreeing that eating for now would be a good idea.

As mostly everyone left the room, Ian and Stahl gave a sigh of relief.

"Oh thank you Naga..." Ian's shoulders practically melted.

"I don't know why, but for a moment there I thought we were dead," Stahl breathed.

"Same. It's almost like they didn't hear us," Kellam suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Ian jumped a bit, "What the hell? Kellam? When did you-? Did you just help with-? What?" Kellam gave Ian a puzzled look.

"Smooth," Sully deadpanned before she made her way toward the door. "Hey, are you guys coming or what? Everyone may be depressed as hell but that doesn't mean they won't eat all the damn food before we get there."

Stahl called back as Kellam suddenly appeared by Sully's side, "We're coming!" he turned to Ian. "C'mon, Ian."

Ian looked at Chrom who was still in the room staring at the fire, "Yeah, alright. Hold up one sec, I'll be right there," Stahl looked as well before giving a nod and followed Sully and Kellam down the hall.

Ian sighed as he looked at Chrom's shadowy figure as the light from the fire reflect off the front of his body. The tactician walked over and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Hey, everyone's gone down to eat. You probably should too, no sense in just starving up here by yourself."

Chrom stayed silent as he continued watching the flames.

Ian sighed once more as he straightened back up, "Well, if you change your mind, I'll make sure there is some food left so you can eat as well."

No response.

"Alright then, I'll be heading out now," he turned to leave as he spoke without thinking. "Hey, don't kill yourself over what happened…" he froze in horror at his statement and turned again, "No, wait! I didn't mean that last part! I mean I did, but…" he stopped. "Aw, damn it, you know what I mean! Just…" Ian struggled for the words. "Just be safe," he turned around to walk out the door while he mentally slapped himself, angrily muttering under his breath at his stupidity,"..."Be safe"? What the hell do you think he is going to do, Ian? Cry himself to death? ...Crap! I did it again!"

Ian's annoyed mutterings was heard from across the room before the door slowly closed shut. Chrom stared after Ian with an eyebrow raised before he turned back to the fireplace and watched the cackling of the flames.

* * *

Ian grabbed a plate of food which consisted mostly of meats as offered by the Feroxi cooks and sat down on the floor next to Gaius, Stahl, Sully, and maybe Kellam. Lon'qu was in the group as well but sat the farthest away from Sully.

Stahl grinned while he hungrily grabbed the chicken leg off his plate, "Aw yes, food! It's been so long since I last ate! I can't-!" he immediately began tearing the chicken leg apart with his teeth before finishing his sentence.

Sully watched and slowly shook her head before doing practically the same thing.

Everyone ate in relative silence, all too hungry and far too busy eating to strike up any form of conversation.

After a while though, after everyone had eaten their fill and Stahl got up to grab seconds and thirds, Ian conversationally spoke up, "Well, that was good."

Sully agreed "Hell yeah it was. All this fighting today made me so damn hungry, almost surprised we didn't drop down dead-"

Ian flinched.

Sully raised an eyebrow, "What? What did I-?" she stopped when she realized her wording and shamefully looked away. "Crap. My bad."

Ian sighed, "We can't even begin a damn conversation without death innuendos popping up."

"It was just one mess up, Ian. We can try again," Kellam said.

The tactician barely noticed the man speak before he hastily replied to pretend he heard the suggestion the first time, "No. No, I mean it's not… it's… er… Yeah. Nevermind, you're right. Sorry about that," he scratched the back of his neck.

"You all seem to be taking the death better than most," Lon'qu observed.

Everyone paused at the swordsman's comment, becoming quiet for a quick second before the tactician responded, "...Somewhat."

"Everyone is so damn depressed here, we need some people to lighten the mood," Sully crossed her arms while Lon'qu closed his eyes in an attempt to ignore the woman's presence.

"It's a shame, really," a voice was heard from a couple feet away.

Everyone turned their heads and saw Virion sitting in a chair legs crossed and sipping tea from a cup while sitting by a starlit window.

"Eavesdropping, Virion? You know you can join us if you want," Ian offered.

The nobleman shook his head, "No, no. I am content where I am. I just simply overheard your conversation and couldn't help but add in a comment of my own."

"Anything more to add then, Ruffles?" Sully added with a smirk and Virion smiled.

"Of course, of course. Even in times of great mourning I cannot turn down the request of a beauteous flower," Sully's smile quickly disappeared and Virion theatrically looked toward the stars. "A woman so young, of both beauty and grace, powerful but noble. To live through life with nothing but the purest of intentions is awe inspiring in and of itself. But yet to have died so young is nothing short of a catastrophe. It pains my heart to know that the world has lost a bit of its light with her passing. Such a waste…" he sipped his cup.

Everyone stared while Sully raised an eyebrow.

"So what's the plan now, Bubbles?" Gaius asked while he picked at his teeth.

Ian shook his head, "No clue. Everything went to hell in a handbasket so fast I just… I just don't even know," he held a hand to his eyes and exhaled before he looked around at the group. "Give me some time, a few days. I'll try to figure something out of this… mess."

Stahl sat back down with two plates of food and asked with his mouth full," Hey, gryse. Whatcher talkin' bout?"

"Depressing stuff," Sully deadpanned.

Stahl swallowed his food, "Ah…Yeah. I can't believe she's gone," he took another bite.

"How do you eat so much?" Ian asked bewildered. "Where does it all go?"

"You're not one of those people that eat a lot of food while depressed, are ya?" Gaius eyed Stahl's plates.

Stahl swallowed another bite, "No, I'm just hungry," he continued eating.

Ian smiled while he shook his head, "Well, at least some things haven't changed."

The green haired knight picked up his third plate, "Don't get me wrong guys. I'm just as torn about Exalt Emmeryn's death as everyone else. But some of us need to stay strong so the others can have a shoulder to cry on," he became a little quiet. "It's going to be hard, these next few days…" he slowly ate another bite. "Hmm, maybe you're right, Gaius. Maybe I am a depressive eater."

"Great, now you just made the most laid-back guy in the Shepherds sad too," Sully said.

"It's not my fault," Gaius shrugged. "It was just an honest question, you rarely get honesty with me."

Ian continued the conversation with Stahl, "It's fine, Stahl. I get where you're coming from and you're right. Our buddies are going to be in mourning for these next few days and they're going to need some time. We'll just have to be that shoulder for them to cry on for the time being. They'll need us," Stahl nodded while chewing and Ian gave him a skeptical look. "Plus I'm also sure you're not a depressive eater. I think you just eat a lot."

"Gee, thanks, Ian," he continued chewing.

"That could have been taken any number of ways," Gaius said while he and Sully snickered.

"Psh. Whatever," Ian shrugged.

For several minutes everyone in the group was in good spirits, while the thought of Emmeryn's death was still fresh in their minds, their morale was a little bit higher than most as most of the other Shepherds had gone back upstairs. After a while however as everyone in the group kept talking, Ian glanced at the hallway where the staircase that led upstairs was and frowned.

Gaius noticed Ian's distracted stare and asked, "Something the matter, Bubbles?"

"Hmm," Ian mused while rubbing his chin. "Chrom still hasn't come downstairs to eat yet. I'm getting worried."

"Blue still up there?" Gaius followed Ian's gaze. "Guy is going to starve if he doesn't come down soon."

Ian let out a sigh, "Looks like I'll have to bring him up a plate. Hope I don't have to feed him too."

"Fred, Cordy, and Stumbles probably already have that covered… Wouldn't be surprised if they were feeding him too... Crazy loonies," Gaius leaned back with his hands behind his head.

Ian stared at the kitchen down the hallway as all sources of light in that room was snuffed out, but even then he knew the food was still there. He contemplated for a bit before agreeing with the thief, "Hmm, you're probably right. Guess we'll see when we get there," He got up from the floor and stretched. "I'm tired."

"You and me both, pal," Sully yawned before walking for the stairs. "You coming Lon'qu? Or are you just going to sulk there and stare at me?" Lon'qu sat with his arms crossed before he grunted and got up as well.

The group walked for the stairs while Ian quietly spoke, "Probably just head straight to sleep, don't want to bother anyone when we get there…?"

Ian paused and so did the group when they saw a blue haired figure walk down the stairs, their head faced downward when they walked past.

"Chrom?" Ian asked. "What are you doing? Are you going to eat right now?"

The prince nodded.

"Everyone is already going back upstairs to sleep, plus I think the Feroxi soldiers left to their tents as well. It's going to be a bit lonely down here," Ian warned.

"Good," Chrom monotonously replied.

"Er… do you want us to stay down here to give you some company?" Stahl asked.

"No," Chrom waved it off. "You guys go on ahead. I want to be alone for a bit."

Everyone looked at each other with worried expressions on their faces before they reluctantly agreed, "Well… alright then. Guess we'll see you in the morning then," Ian spoke before they climbed up the stairs.

Chrom sighed as he stood in the empty hallway for several seconds before turning around and headed towards the kitchen. His mind was still in shambles and any tears that he let loose that day had practically dried out. As much as he wanted to eat while he was upstairs by himself, the prince couldn't bring himself to look anyone else in the eye.

He felt ashamed for what he did and for what he couldn't have done.

Chrom walked into the kitchen and fumbled around trying to find a plate and some food, cursing to himself whenever he bumped or knocked something over.

The prince emerged from the darkened kitchen with a plate of food in his hand, his face held an annoyed scowl as he slammed his plate onto a table and sat down. He absently scooped the food into his mouth as he just stared off into the distance and automatically ate.

Right now Chrom didn't want to think. He didn't want to feel, he didn't want to cry, he didn't want to mourn. More now than ever he just wanted some peace and quiet and just to get the annoying hunger in his stomach to go away.

Music began playing in the main room down the hallway.

Chrom tried his best to ignore the sounds as he continued to eat, but over time the sounds grew louder and louder. He began shoveling the food into his mouth at a rapid pace so his focus was on eating and not on the music. Soon he began to hear claps and cheers in the next room and a vein began to throb on his forehead. He slammed his utensils down on the table in frustration and immediately got out his chair, fists tightly clenched as he began to speed walk toward the source of the music.

"_Who the hell is playing that damned music at this time of night? Can't a man just sulk and eat in peace? Is that so much to bloody ask for? Is it? Damn it!" _

Chrom walked through the door leading to the main hallway where the Feroxi soldiers had set up their tents and immediately opened his mouth, "Hey! Why the hell is-?" Chrom stopped in his tracks as the soldiers in the room were completely oblivious to the prince's presence, watching and sitting in a large circle around a campfire they had carefully set up in the middle of the room as a pink haired dancer performed for them.

The music was being played by some of the soldiers with instruments in hand, and while somewhat crude, the sounds they made were almost professional. But what had immediately caught Chrom's attention was the dancer in the middle of it all.

A familiar pink haired dancer twirled around the campfire with the grace of a swan, her feet seemed to glide across the floor while at the same time never touching it. Her eyes were closed and her arms and hands mystically flowed through the rhythm at an even, methodical pace. Her hair, along with the clear and transparent fabric at the ends of her arms and legs added to the illusion of moving waves.

Soon the large drums began to pick up their tempo and boomed with every hard swing; the woman opened her eyes and her gaze became much more intense. Her movements became much more rapid as she jumped, almost animalistic, kicking through the air before punching the ground when she landed. She immediately got back up and began to twirl in place, the clear fabric acting as rotating disks orbiting around her body.

She glided to the floor while still spinning and kicked her feet into the air while she leaned on her hands. She toppled over and rolled forward before swiping the air in front of the front row audience's face and jumped up. She came down low once again and swiped a second time centimeters from the same row's faces; her face in a snarl as she shouted, "Hiyah!"

The crowd cheered and even the men in the front row began laughing to each other at the powerful and wonderful ferocity of the dancer.

Chrom watched from a distance at the incredible performance of the pink haired woman; his mind captivated and his feet glued to the floor as he became more and more enticed by how she moved.

He quietly whispered to himself as he watched in awe of the woman's incredible beauty and grace of both her body and dance, "Wow…"

With the woman dancing and the music gradually becoming more and more melancholy, the prince felt as if time itself had slowed and he felt nothing of himself but the rapid flutterings of his heartbeat. It was almost as if he were in a trance, nothing else mattered at that point as all thoughts began to fade. The death of so many innocent people this conflict had led to became nonexistent; the brutal death of General Mustafa and his men a passing thought; the murder and suicide of his beloved sister, Emmeryn a far and distant place.

All of that happened in the span of the time Chrom watched the pink haired dancer dance.

The tempo of the drums began to slow and so did the dancer, the music becoming much more calmer and melancholy. The audience became incredibly quiet. The dancer twirled less than she did in her previous routine as her spin came to a standstill, her entire weight shifting onto one foot as the fire that was seen in her eyes was replaced by a sadder, more pained expression. One of her hands reached out and upwards as if grasping for the stars, her other hand held tightly to her chest as if she were afraid her heart may disappear.

Chrom felt as if something heavy had dropped in the pit of his stomach while he watched the pink haired dancer slowly fall to her knees, both hands tightly clenched to her chest with a pained expression on her face as if she were crying. Chrom reached forward a bit before he saw her immediately get up and continue her routine.

The dance continued for several more minutes until the sound of the drums slowly came to an end.

The soldiers applauded and hollered at the pink haired dancer as her entire confident persona broke away and she bowed, blushing heavily in embarrassment as the audience gave her their praise.

Even Chrom who only minutes before was ready to shout down an entire room of soldiers found himself clapping madly at the end of the woman's performance. He almost hollered as well before he caught himself, his heart beating rapidly at the action he was about to do. Nonetheless however he still smiled, hands in his pockets as he continued to watch in admiration of the beauty and skill of the dancer.

None of the people in the room had noticed he was even there, so Chrom gave a satisfied exhale before exiting the room. A light smile on his face as he quietly whistled the sounds of the music to himself before he made his way back to the table to eat.

* * *

Ian woke up early the next morning to the sound of snoring Shepherds throughout the large room. He gave a loud yawn as sleep was still prevalent in his eyes.

He wiped his eyes and looked around the room, noticing a few of the sleeping bags were empty. Ian guessed some of the more diligent members in the group, such as Frederick or Lon'qu, had woken up early to get an early start on their training regimen.

He appreciated the fact that Frederick hadn't tried to muster the entire group to begin immediate training like he normally would.

Ian yawned a second time and stretched. Slowly getting up as he noticed the rain from yesterday had completely disappeared. As much as he wanted to walk toward the nearest window in the room and see how it looked outside, a field of sleeping bodies acted as a deterrent to that plan.

The tired tactician turned around and quietly cursed his terrible decision of choosing to sleep in the middle of the room as opposed to next to one of the walls.

Ian took a careful step forward as he tried to quietly walk through the valley of death; any misstep would most definitely make this naming true.

"_Quietly… carefully… Why on earth is the door so far away? I know this room is big, but c'mon. This is ridiculous," _Ian kept holding his breath as he gingerly stepped over Vaike's body. The blonde fighter snorted and rolled positions, kicking Ian's shin in the process.

"_Son of a!" _he cursed as tears welled in his eyes, doing his best to fight off the temptation of jumping up and down in pain. "_Vaike you freakin' friggin, friggin, friggin!" _

Once the shirtless man had stopped moving, Ian moved as quickly as he could from the man, giving a death glare while he wearily glanced back.

Eventually Ian made it to the door and gave a sigh of relief, surprised to find he hadn't woken anyone up in the process.

He turned around and gave the room a double take as he tried to find out where Chrom was. He soon found the blue haired prince sleeping peacefully by the fireplace with all traces of sadness from the previous day almost all but disappeared, replaced with only a face tired with sleep.

"_Huh, he doesn't look as bad as I thought he would. Color me surprised," _the tactician thought. He continued staring at his friend for several moments before he grasped the handles for the door, smiled, and quietly slipped outside.

* * *

Chrom awoke as he found most of the occupants in the room had already begun preparing for the day.

The prince yawned and absentmindedly rubbed his eyes, trying to ward off the sleep when the memories of yesterday's events came rushing to him. Chrom blinked when he felt a hole open up in the pit of his stomach as he instantly thought of his older sister, Emmeryn.

The death of his older sister, Emmeryn.

Chrom gritted his teeth as he quickly tried to wipe away at the tears threatening to leak from his eyes. He became frustrated when the tears kept coming.

"_C'mon, Chrom, hold it together. There are people here! They're watching! Stop crying! Stop crying, damn you!"_

He sniffled.

"_But Emm. Emm is gone and it's all my fault. How the hell am I supposed to stop crying if- Just stop crying, damn you!" _

Chrom's mind raced miles at a time in a span of a few seconds, torn between the memories of his sister's death and his current struggle to stop the coming tears.

"_Get up, Chrom. Just get up. I have to get out of here, damn tears just won't stop. Get this bag off of me, get off!" _

"Captain?"

Chrom froze when he heard Sumia approach him, pained tears still falling from his eyes as he watched the young pegasus rider.

"Captain?" Sumia said again in a softer tone, "...Chrom… are, are you alright?"

Chrom stared with horror in his eyes before he tried wiping away at the tears again, cursing internally to himself at his obvious show of weakness. He tried to recover himself as he sniffed as hard as he could to get the tears and snot to retract up his eyes and nose.

"W-what is it, Sumia?" he shamefully asked.

The pegasus knight had a worried expression on her face, "You were crying, Captain. I came to see if you were alright," she bit her lip as she struggled to figure out what else to say.

The prince slowly nodded as he tried to get out of his sleeping bag, "I'm fine, Sumia. There is nothing for you to worry about."

Sumia continued staring as Chrom stood up and put on his boots, "But, Captain-"

"It's fine, Sumia," he cut her off. "Just drop it," Chrom cooly began walking toward the door with his hands in his pockets. Sumia took a step forward with her hand reaching out before she stopped herself.

"Chrom-"

The door shut closed.

Sumia stood in the middle of the room with a pained look on her face, heartbroken that the man she so deeply cared for had so quickly placed barriers between herself and him. Her heart ached staring at the closed doors as if they were the very representation of Chrom's own heart; silent and cold, blocking her from a soul that was most likely crying on the other side.

The young woman stared at the floor with a fist clenched to her chest when she heard a soft click.

All Sumia saw were the colors of white and blue, her body quickly being brought into a tight embrace when she gasped.

"Chrom? What are you-?"

Chrom buried his face into Sumia's neck as he tightly held her to him. He quietly whispered, "I'm sorry, Sumia. Don't take what I said to heart. I'm just having a hard time, is all," Sumia blushed lightly when she tightened her grip on Chrom.

After several moments, Chrom stepped back and smiled, "But as I said, I'm fine. See? Smiles and everything. You don't need to worry about me," Sumia stared for a second before giving a smile of her own.

"Ah, yes. Yes I see," she shined.

"Good," Chrom nodded. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some things I need to work on such as tactics with Ian and a couple hours of training with good ol' Falchion here. I mustn't let my skills rust," Chrom gave a laugh before heading toward the door.

Sumia replied, "Yes, yes of course," she gave a little wave, "And don't worry, I wasn't hurt too bad. I understand."

"Good," the prince last spoke before the door shut close.

Sumia smiled and waved for a couple more seconds before both hand and face fell. Her heart ached as she continued to stare at the closed doors and she whispered to herself, "Oh, Chrom, you mustn't try and fool me. And most importantly, you mustn't try and fool yourself. I know you're hurting bad, please let me into your life for just a moment. Please, I want to do all I can to make the pain go away. Let me shoulder it all for you… Be with you…" Sumia blinked away at the phantom tears she thought she felt rushing to the surface. Her eyes dry-crying while she stood in the middle of the room, heartbroken as Chrom's own heart closed.

* * *

Ian sat in a small enclosed room that contained only an old bed, a desk, a small closet, and a window where the light from the desert sun had gradually begun to shine through. It was simple in it's appearance and Ian immediately assumed it used to belong to one of the castle's many servants. But since the last time the room was actually utilized was most likely a very long ago, the room had become dusty and cold, despite belonging to a building in a desert.

The white haired tactician sneezed at his desk as the dust particles moved precariously about the room, forcing Ian to leave the door open. The window was another matter because with a combination of sand and rusted age, the hatches refused to budge. It only took him about five to ten minutes of wasted time trying to get the damnable thing open.

Only.

Ian racked his brain trying to come up with more combat scenarios to use during their desert campaign. They were still in Plegian territory when most people would have tried to escape the country as soon as possible and try and recuperate from such a heavy loss. The one advantage they had right now was the element of surprise, but without any information about where Gangrel's main army was at the moment, having that element meant little if one didn't know where to initiate the actual surprise.

"_They'll definitely try and catch us as soon as possible. Gangrel may have said he wanted a huge war to erupt between our two nations, but really it's just a ploy to get to the Fire Emblem. What he wants with it I have no bloody clue. But if he's smart, he'll try and catch us while we're still reeling from the shock of… Emmeryn's death, and before we cross the border and come back with reinforcements." _

As he thought to himself, Ian realized that this was the first time since Exalt Emmeryn's death that he could actually think to himself in isolation about what had happened in detail. To think about all the mistakes he had made in those moments.

He leaned back in his chair and cursed as his heart felt heavy with guilt. Running the events again in his mind.

"_Damn... We initiated the attack as soon as the sun hit the horizon. As we neared the castle walls, we were met with little resistance and practically no air combatants in sight. We took out their ground and for a while we had a window of opportunity to save the exalt… Our window lasted about two minutes. We squandered two minutes to save the exalt."_

Ian cursed again, "Damn it…"

"_I should not have been so paranoid, I should have told them to just go for it. Why would they leave their air uncontested if we were at their front doorstep? Who in their right mind does that? Who, Ian? Who!" _

He scribbled down his first mistake.

"_We took out their air and saved a Ylissean priest before proceeding to the front gates. We talked to and recruited a Plegian dark mage. Her name was I believe… Tharja," _Ian shivered a bit at how the strange woman acted around him. Especially around him.

"_We ran into the courtyard and took down all the guards, victory is practically within our grasp. Philia and her pegasus knights show up and something… happened… They were killed immediately... What the hell happened?"_

Ian repeatedly tapped his finger against the desk, a consistent sound that annoyed him but for some reason was the closest thing he could do to calm himself down without mentally yelling at himself.

"_Aversa..." _Ian instantly remembered Gangrel's second in command, a tall, dark skinned woman with revealing clothing. "_She did something, and Risen appeared. She opened some sort of box and it sounded like someone screamed. I thought it was one of the guards or one of us. Bloody thing scared the hell out of me."_

He continued as his thoughts began to race faster and faster, "_What was in that box? Damn it, we also had a second window of opportunity before she opened that box. We had Cordelia, we had Sumia, we also had Nowi there for crying out loud! We had a second window to grab Emmeryn and we missed that too! How did I not see that? How did I not bloody see that?" _

Ian banged his fist on the table which knocked all the dust into the air. He sat there breathing heavily for several seconds trying to ignore the flying particles before they got into his lungs. He entered a coughing fit before he decided to exit the room, deciding that for now he couldn't think up of any strategies in his current state of mind.

"_I'll also need those reports from the Feroxian Army out in the field if I don't want to be grasping at straws all day."_

Ian stood in the middle of the darkened hallway looking in the direction where the rest of the Shepherds were before rubbing his eyes and sighing heavily to himself, "_This is most easily my biggest failure. How the hell am I suppose to look Chrom in the eye now? Lissa? Frederick! What kind of damn tactician am I if I can't even save my best friend's sister?"_

He began walking forward as he put his hands in his pockets, deciding for now that he'll just grab something to eat before he got even more depressed with himself. He let out a breath.

Walking down the halls he noticed the blood colored rugs and several glass vases that held the headless stems of flowers and plants that had died long ago. The windows, though old, were tall and most likely once beautiful; Ian realized for the first time how similar the infrastructure here was compared to that in Ylisse.

Placing a hand on the wall as he continued to walk, Ian couldn't help but feel a little bit familiar with his surroundings, he had no clue why, but he just felt a sense of nostalgia.

He continued walking with his hand placed until he ran into Chrom.

Ian looked at Chrom and Chrom stared back, and Ian couldn't help but all of a sudden feel very afraid of looking his friend in the eye. Even after the death of Emmeryn the day before he was still able to talk with the young prince, albeit for a short amount of time. But now with the sudden guilt he felt panging in his heart, it was if a lever had switched that ability off.

The two kept staring before Chrom spoke up, "Hey, Ian."

Ian had a look of confused horror on his face, struggling to keep himself from staring with his mouth hanging open in shock before he weakly replied, "Uh, h-hey. Hello."

Chrom raised an eyebrow, "Is something the matter, Ian?"

"No, it's nothing… milord," the word all of a sudden falling from his mouth.

"Milord?" Chrom's face fell in incredible disbelief. "Ian, what the hell is going on? Why are you all of a sudden acting like Frederick on me?"

"It's because you're of the exalted bloodline… sir."

"Exalted bloodline?" Chrom's eyebrows continued to furrow deeper and deeper as if he was having a hard time looking at something, and in this case it was Ian. "Ian, me being part of the exalted bloodline has never stopped you from talking to me informally in the past, not even when you first found out about my relation to… Emm… But that doesn't matter, what has gotten into you?" he repeated before he suddenly realized.

"It's… about what happened yesterday. Isn't it?"

Ian reluctantly nodded.

Chrom sighed as he slowly turned to one of the walls before shaking his head, "Look, Ian. What happened yesterday is not your fault. I'm not going to blame you for something none of us could have even predicted. What ever happened, happened. We can't change that now."

He began rubbing the back of his neck, "And… ever since we found you in that field, lying on your back as if you were taking a nap, I never saw myself as better than you. We were equals, definitely more so when you came to fight by our side, even though there was absolutely no reason for you to do that. And ever since that day we've been together. We've fought together, strategized together, made jokes and heck, pulled pranks and made fun of each other," Ian couldn't help but smirk a little. "There's no way I can hate you after all that, even now. You're like a brother to me."

There was a long pause before Ian cautiously asked, "So… we're good?"

Chrom nodded, "We're good."

Ian gave a sigh of relief, "Thanks, Chrom. I- You don't know how much that means to me. I'm still so very sorry I couldn't do more to save Emmeryn-"

"It's fine," Chrom cut him off.

Ian gave a stern look, "No, Chrom. It's not fine. Look, even though-"

"Ian, I just gave you a whole spiel about how I don't hate you for what happened and that you're like a brother to me. You don't have to-"

"Chrom!" Ian yelled while becoming flustered. "You didn't let me finish! Just let me finish my sentence, damn it!"

Chrom was taken aback by Ian's sudden outburst and paused for several seconds. He then crossed his arms and chuckled, motioning his hand forward to let his friend proceed, "Alright, fine. What is it?"

Ian smirked while giving a mocking bow, "Thank you. Jeez, Chrom. A man can't get a word in edgewise around you."

"Are you going to finish your thought or are you just going to insult me all day?" Chrom asked while smiling.

Ian smiled, "I'll insult you later."

"Hey!"

"Alright, alright," Ian waved his hands defensively before his tone became somber once again, "Look, even though I still feel like the worst freakin' piece of crap that ever walked this planet in the history of mankind. I appreciate what you've done for me. And despite what happened, I'll do my best to make things right. I will do everything in my power so something like this never happens again, I swear you that," he pounded a fist to his chest.

Chrom chuckled, "You sure do like making corny speeches."

"What!" Ian yelled, feeling insulted. "I just gave you a whole spiel about how sorry I was for what happened and how I planned to make it right, and you go off and insult my speech making skills?"

"Hey," Chrom crossed his arms. "That's my spiel you just took. You can't take my spiel."

"Yes I can," Ian argued. "We're equals remember? You don't own me, you can't tell me what I can and cannot do. That's not how it works."

"Oh, you son of a-" Chrom started before he slowly burst into laughter, bringing a hand to cover his face as Ian began chuckling as well. "You're an arse, you know that?"

"Takes one to know one, mate," Ian laughed.

Chrom smiled, "Heh, too true, I suppose."

The two continued quietly laughing together for several minutes, the depressing air of yesterday's event eventually disappearing off into the distance; being completely replaced by the laughter of two brothers.

Once they had finished laughing at their terrible excuse of an argument, Chrom looked at Ian in the eye and smiled, "You're a good friend, Ian."

Ian smiled in return, "You too."

Chrom nodded before he took a step closer to Ian and spoke, "Oh yeah, another thing about yesterday…" Chrom's fist suddenly flew in front of Ian's face.

The tactician quickly reacted by blocking his face with his arms, but was surprised to find no impact. He slowly lowered his arms and cautiously asked, "Uh… Chrom?"

The prince grinned, "Kidding," he smiled pleasantly for several more seconds before his other fist hit Ian hard in the gut. The tactician fell to the floor and immediately grabbed his stomach, crying in pain as he did so.

"Ow! What the hell, Chrom! That bloody hurt! I thought you said we were good!"

Chrom grinned, "We are now. That was for yesterday. Right side of my jaw still hurts like hell thanks to you," Ian groaned.

"C'mon," Chrom said while walking away. "Sun is up, it's morning. I think now would be a good time for breakfast."

"I take back what I said," Ian grunted as he stood back up. "You're an awful friend."

Chrom smirked, "Love you too, buddy. C'mon, food is getting cold."

Ian groaned again.

* * *

"You know, if you don't mind me saying, but you seem to have incredible recovery," Ian said as he finishing clearing his plate.

"What do you mean?" Chrom wiped his mouth.

"With her… death," Ian reluctantly let out. "Look, it was just yesterday and I'm still trying to get over it but you've known her your whole life. How on earth are you not a pile of tears right now?"

Chrom sighed before he bit his lip and slowly answered, "Well, to be honest, Ian. I actually am a pile of tears right now. You may not see it on the outside and I may be hiding it very well, but right now I'm struggling against the idea of screaming and tearing this place apart in a raging fury."

"Oh…" Ian let out as his confidence began to fade, "I'm… sorry. I didn't mean to bring it up. I just thought…" he trailed off.

Chrom nodded, "It's fine."

There was another awkward silence while Ian tapped his fork against his plate and Chrom looked around the room with his arms crossed as most of everyone else tried to avoid eye contact with him.

"They're avoiding me," the prince let out.

"They're just trying to give you some space for now. How else would you react when someone you knew lost someone so close to them?" Ian said.

"I would try and comfort them," Chrom turned back to Ian.

"Do you need them to comfort you?" Ian asked with an incredulous look.

Chrom thought for a moment before he let out a sigh and shook his head, "No. I mean- yeah, I mean- No. No."

Ian raised an eyebrow, "You're a terrible liar, you know that?"

"Hey, I'm still in mourning here. This isn't easy for me," Chrom shot back.

"Sorry."

Chrom sighed once again while letting out a small chuckle, "No, no. It's fine," he slowly began leaning with his elbows on the table and quietly spoke so only Ian could hear, "And to answer your question about how I can act as if I'm not all depressed as hell, well, the thing is, I saw something last night."

"A dream?" Ian asked, becoming slightly intrigued.

"No, nothing like that," Chrom waved the answer off before suspiciously looking left and right to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "I saw the most incredible thing. I saw someone dance."

"You saw someone dance," Ian deadpanned. He leaned back in his seat and shook his head, "Chrom, you got me all excited for nothing. Did you just hit puberty? Surely you've seen someone dance once or twice in your lifetime. You're a royal for pete's sake."

"No," Chrom insisted. "It wasn't just someone dancing. It was someone dancing the most incredible, awe inspiring dance I have ever seen. The most beautiful person I have ever seen..." he trailed off.

"Huh?" Ian let out while giving the most dumbfounded face, as if refusing to believe what he was hearing. "You're fancying someone?"

"No I'm not, Ian," Chrom denied. "I'm just saying I saw something- someone incredible yesterday and that is why I'm not as depressed as I should be."

"Uh, huh…" Ian slowly spoke while he nodded his head. "You do know who that incredible, beautiful dancer that you speak of is, don't you?"

Chrom sadly shook his head, "No I don't. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit disappointed I didn't."

"Chrom," Ian started in a tone as if he had to remind someone to do a certain task for the hundredth time. "That dancer's name is Olivia."

"You know her?" Chrom suddenly became interested.

"Yes," Ian became even more disappointed in his friend's apparent lack of attention to his surroundings. "Chrom, are you serious? She was our driver on our way to this castle. You sat at the front, you literally sat right next to her, you could have touched her shoulder she was so close to you," he continued. "Chrom, are you freakin' serious?"

His friend stared back with a dumbfounded look on his face and with his mouth hanging open like a village fool. He couldn't believe what he was hearing as if he had missed the answer to the easiest question in the world. He just couldn't believe it.

"Are you serious?" the prince asked.

"Chrom, if you keep staring at me like that I swear I will sock you in the face again," Ian threatened.

Chrom quickly recovered and waved his hands in front of him, "Alright, alright. Fine. I just… couldn't believe I didn't notice."

"Tell me about it," Ian sarcastically replied.

Chrom smiled while he let out another chuckle, "So… you said her name was Olivia, right?"

"Yep," Ian nodded before he slowly grew suspicious. "You're not planning on proposing to her, are you?"

Chrom shook his head, "No, no. Nothing of the sort. My sister just… died, and I'm way too depressed over that to think of anything close to marriage. I just…" he paused. "I was just thinking, if I ever run across her again I could just thank her for helping me out of my… rut."

"Uh, huh," Ian nodded while still skeptical. "Sure you are."

"It's true!" Chrom became indignant.

"Sure it is," Ian repeated as a large grin appeared on his face before he sobered down a bit and then smiled again, "Chrom, I'm proud of you."

"Okay, you arse," his friend began laughing a bit. "Fine, don't believe me. It doesn't matter, I know it's true."

"Sure it is," Ian said a third time.

"Are you just going to repeat that? Chrom asked, annoyed.

"Maybe," Ian shrugged before another silence befell the two.

"So, now what?" Chrom asked as he changed the subject.

Ian sighed as he began to pick up his plate and leave his seat, "I just tried to come up with a few new strategies for our campaign, but that is kind of hard to do if you don't know where the enemy is."

Chrom nodded in understanding as he followed suit, "So right now you have nothing to do?"

The tactician shrugged, "Not until the rest of Flavia and Basilio's forces show up later today. So no."

His friend smiled at that answer, "Well then, if you really do have nothing to do for the time being, we could always go out into the courtyard and spar for a few hours. The rain stopped."

Ian raised an eyebrow, "Out there? Do you know how much mud is going to be out there?"

"What, are you afraid of getting your coat dirty?" Chrom accused as he laughed.

"No," Ian replied before he slowly answered again. "...Maybe."

"It won't be that bad," Chrom slapped a hand on his friend's back as he dropped off their dishes. "We could always wash it again later."

"We're in the middle of a desert, Chrom. I don't think it would be wise to wash our clothes with the amount of water we have."

"It just rained," Chrom said. "I'm very sure the Feroxi troops here were smart enough to fill up a couple of buckets with all the rain pouring down."

Ian closed his eyes and let out another sigh as he rubbed his eyes. He slowly let out, "Fine…"

"Good," Chrom smiled. "You grab your gear and I'll meet you out in the courtyard in a few."

"Yeah, yeah," Ian waved it off as he walked back to their sleeping quarters. "Better not pull any dirty tricks while we're out there."

Chrom chuckled, "Don't worry, I won't."

"Alright, see you in a few," the tactician walked away.

Chrom stood chuckling in the middle of the mess hall as he began to turn away. His small laughter soon died when he came to the realization that he had no clue where the door to the courtyard was. He looked around the room in a small panic.

"Aw, crap…"

* * *

Chrom walked the castle halls in a pathetic search for the courtyard, becoming lost at almost every turn and having to constantly ask any soldiers he came across for directions.

After about fifteen minutes with no courtyard doors in sight, the prince became frustrated.

"It's like a maze in here!" he complained out loud. "How is this even possible? I've lived in a castle my whole life, this should be easy for me!"

After several more minutes of walking around and nothing to show for all of his searching, Chrom was just about to give up and considered breaking out the next window he came across just to get outside when he heard a voice from up ahead.

"Oh no, not this vase again. I could have sworn I passed this vase about five times now! Basilio told me the Shepherd's tactician needed these reports as soon as possible, how am I supposed to do that if I can't find my way out of here?"

"_Is someone else lost around here?" _Chrom asked himself before he started walking toward the source of the sounds. "_Well, I guess it can't be too bad, we can be lost together."_

"Hey, is everything alright? Are you lost?" Chrom turned the corner before he stopped cold in his tracks.

The voice suddenly became very surprised and stammered repeatedly.

"Huh? O-oh! M-milord, Chrom! Sir! Sir! Hello! Hello! Er…" the woman's voice suddenly became very quiet as her stammering came to a halt.

Chrom stood staring at the pink haired woman carrying a large stack of papers in her arms as she stared at the floor, her face blushing beet-red.

"Uh…" Chrom let out.

"Um…" Olivia kept blushing.

Chrom gritted his teeth as he steeled himself and tried to make the most pleasant smile he could. He made a fist and coughed into his hand, "Ahem, um, uh, Olivia?"

"Y-yes?" the dancer replied.

"Do you… need any help carrying those papers?" he asked.

A horrified look suddenly appeared on Olivia's face as she quickly turned from red to pale in a matter of seconds, "What! No! Nonononononononono! It's fine! Absolutely fine! You don't have to bother yourself! I have this handled!"

"But, I just heard you say you passed this vase about five times now a couple seconds ago," Chrom pointed toward the small ceramic on the table. "You must be lost."

"Lost? What? No, no. I'm not lost, not lost in the slightest. Haha! Ha… ha?" she gave a nervous laugh.

Chrom wasn't convinced, "Yes, yes you are lost. Definitely more than in the slightest, but don't worry," he tried to give a reassuring grin as he pointed with a thumb to his chest. "I'm lost too! So we can both try and find a way out together."

Olivia opened her mouth to protest but then soon closed it, opting to just nod her head and quietly reply, "O-okay…"

Chrom smiled, "Good. Now let me help you with those papers," he stepped forward to the grab the pile.

Olivia's face paled again, "No, wait! Milord, wait! Don't!"

Chrom grabbed the stack of papers and Olivia pulled back in fear as a natural reaction, an almost cartoonish form of tug of war taking place with the reports.

"Olivia? What are you doing? You don't have to hold it by yourself, please let me help you!"

"Nooooo! I don't want to burden you! Please!"

"It's no burden! I'm doing this because I want to thank you!"

"T-thank me?"

"Yes! I saw your dancing last night and I-!"

"You what!?" Olivia gasped as she accidentally let go of the stack of papers, causing Chrom to tumble back and knock the vase over in the process. Sounds of running footsteps began to echo through the halls.

"Ungh…" Chrom groaned as he rubbed the back of his head, "Owww..."

"I'm so sorry!" Olivia began hyperventilating. "I-it was a accident!. I d-didn't mean to-! I-I j-just- Hah!?"

Three sets of heads turned the corner in worried shock at the scene.

"Milord!" Frederick cried and instantly fell to Chrom's side. "Milord, are you alright? Are you injured?"

"Captain!" Cordelia did the same.

"Chrom?" Sumia asked.

The prince groaned.

Three pairs of eyes turned to the frightened dancer when Frederick pointed, "You! What has happened here! What did you do?" he demanded.

Olivia's eyes widened in horror as her face finally lost all traces of color, "I- I- I- I- I- I-!"

"Don't "I" me! Tell me what happened to Prince Chrom!" Frederick roared.

The dancer looked like she was about to faint before she turned around and ran, "Imsoverysorry!"

"She's getting away!" Sumia yelled.

"Come! We mustn't let her escape! Catch her!" Frederick got up and began sprinting after the girl. "Cordelia! Protect milord with your life! We will catch the dastard!" Both Sumia and the great knight gave chase.

Chrom groaned one more time before the red haired pegasus knight attempted to pick him up by the arm but kept pulling back at the last second, afraid to touch him. Cordelia instead just nervously asked, "A-are you alright, Captain?"

"What just happened?" Chrom groaned.

"We found you lying on the floor with a strange woman that had pink hair standing over you. She just ran off, Frederick and Sumia are chasing after her right now."

"They're what?" Chrom suddenly stopped.

"...They're chasing after her… milord," Cordelia blushed.

The prince stared at Cordelia with his mouth hanging open before he looked down the hallway where the sounds of chased shouting were coming from, "Oh no…"

"Frederick! Frederick stop!" Chrom began running as Cordelia stayed behind, blushing intensely as she held a hand to her chest and gave a heavenly sigh, staring after the flustered prince.

* * *

The walls that stood within much of the castle acted like an irritable painting to Chrom. Everywhere he went was pretty much the exact same thing, nothing looked different, it was always a vase here or a window there. All he knew was that there was shouting up ahead and that he had to follow it.

"_Damn you Frederick and your overzealousness!_" Chrom mentally yelled. "_And what on earth, Sumia? You were never one to chase after someone like this! What has gotten into everyone today?" _he blinked when he thought that question to himself and immediately began looking around the halls as he ran. "_And where the hell is everybody? Sure the castle is somewhat big, but that doesn't explain why everyone has disappeared all of a sudden!" _

He passed another crossway in the halls and did a doubletake when he noticed a pair of stairs leading to the upper levels, Frederick's angry cries echoing from above.

Chrom grunted in annoyance when he began to climb.

Once he reached the top, Chrom's heart fell when he saw a very similar layout with the walls like he did downstairs.

"You can't be serious…" he groaned.

After several more minutes of yelling and running, Chrom saw the backs of the two knights running down a long, straight hall with the bouncing pink hair of Olivia far ahead of them.

Determination and fear both flared in Chrom's eyes as he sprinted after the knights, prepared to do whatever it took to save the pink haired dancer from the wrath of Frederick.

He soon caught up to the two knights.

"Frederick!" Chrom yelled as he sprinted the fastest he ever ran in his entire life. "Frederick stop!"

"Milord!" the great knight turned in surprise to find the prince recovered and sprinting in stride with him. "What are you doing? You mustn't be running! Please, lay down and rest! Sumia and I will catch her!"

"No, you don't understand! I was not hurt by her at all! I was trying to take a stack of papers from her and she accidentally let go and I fell!"

"So she did hurt you!" Frederick yelled.

"No!" Chrom's eyes widened in horror. "That's not what I-!"

"Chrom," Sumia spoke with an edge in her voice and a fire in her eyes. "That woman has let you fall and you are now hurt because of it. We will not let that stand."

"Sumia, are you serious?" Chrom said out loud before he turned to his thoughts, "_Frederick, again, what have you done to her?"_

It was then a moment later a thought popped into Chrom's head which immediately filled him with guilt. It was a guilty thought that made him feel sick to his stomach but decided it was his best course of action if he wanted to save Olivia. He loudly apologized, "I'm sorry, Sumia!"

The young pegasus knight turned her head in confusion as Chrom's foot suddenly shot out under her, tripping the woman as the fire in her eyes suddenly turned to fear.

"Aaaaaahhhh!" she screamed before she tumbled and face planted into the floor.

"Sumia!" Frederick turned back in horror and immediately tried to pick her up.

Chrom looked back as the two knights tried to recover and yelled over his shoulder in another apologetic yell, "Sorry!"

"_I'll make it up to her later,"_ Chrom turned back and continued sprinting as fast as he could, watching as Olivia turned another corner in a panic. He gritted his teeth as his sides began to burn, "_How the hell is that woman so fast! I'm never going to catch her at this pace!" _

Olivia turned another corner screaming in fear as Chrom continued to give chase, she soon passed another familiar looking crossway in the halls and Chrom paused.

"_That looks like it'll lead straight up ahead. If I take the left path I may be able to cut her off!" _the determination returned to his eyes before he bolted down the hall with a renewed vigor. "_I've passed these so many times now I know this place just as well as my own home!"_

Chrom turned a corner and stopped to catch his breath; he heard extremely tired breathing from up ahead and moved quickly to set up position. His heart became even more tired when he once again heard the zealous cries of Frederick down the hall from the corner behind him.

"_Crap!_" the prince thought before he sprinted down the hall to another corner up ahead, the shadow of a familiar pink haired dancer reflecting off the wall.

He grabbed her when Olivia rounded the corner.

"Huh!?" she practically almost screamed before Chrom covered her mouth.

"Ssshh!" Chrom warned as he frantically looked back, the footfalls of Frederick's heavy armor sounding louder and louder. "In here!" he motioned as he opened up the nearest door and shoved Olivia in.

The door slammed closed.

Chrom and Olivia breathed nervously with Chrom's hand still covering Olivia's mouth as the sounds of heavy footfalls became nearer and nearer. Chrom almost choked when he heard Sumia say, "I think I heard a door slam closed."

"Check the rooms!" Frederick ordered.

"Aw, crap…" Chrom let out as he frantically looked around the room, spotting a small closet and brought Olivia with him as he stepped inside.

"Wait!" Olivia quietly yelled as she was forced in the small confined space.

The closet door quickly but quietly shut, and not even a second later the door to the room they occupied suddenly flew open. Chrom and Olivia held their breaths.

Chrom and Olivia listened intently as their proximity to one another quickly closed. They were almost unable to stand straight as their feet uncomfortably overlapped one another's. Chrom was sweating bullets and Olivia's face turned to an extreme shade of crimson. The fast beating of their hearts practically synchronized.

What in reality lasted only about two seconds at most, seemed like an eternity to the two occupants stuck inside the small confines of an old servant's closet. Chrom was cursing silently under his breath and Olivia looked like she was about to faint.

After an eternity of waiting, the door to the room finally closed.

The two continued to stay silent and hold their breaths as the sounds of Frederick's and Sumia's boots eventually quieted off into the distance; they finally let out a large sigh of relief when it completely disappeared.

"Aw, jeez. I thought they would never go away," Chrom gratefully let out.

"Uh…" Olivia's nervous voice echoed through the small closet and Chrom looked back at the girl.

Chrom's eyes widened when he finally noticed for the first time how close to each other they were, "Uh…"

"Uh…" Olivia repeated.

Chrom's face paled as all he could manage himself to do was stare at Olivia in shocked disbelief, at a loss for words as his mind came to a blank.

The young, pretty dancer soon spoke up, "Let me out!" she panicked.

Chrom stepped back, or in the very least, in a manner similar to stepping back in the small closet. He turned to the door when he stuttered, "A-alright! Hold on!"

As he placed his hand on the door to open their way out, a large amount of resistance prevented him from doing so. He kept pushing and pushing before he came to the horrible realization why the door refused to budge.

"It's locked."

Olivia became very quiet as she stared in horror and Chrom's face fell in disbelief as he slowly let out a commonly used phrase for the third time that day.

"Aw… crap…"

* * *

Ian stood in the middle of the castle courtyard with his arms crossed and his sword hanging by his side, impatiently tapping his foot as he furiously scanned the area.

The disgruntled tactician kept looking at everyone training around him despite the mud and soon let out an annoyed scowl, "Chrom… where the flying hell are you?"

The sun had risen higher and higher into the sky the longer the young tactician waited, and pretty soon the large, yellow orb was in such a position that Ian by this point had absolutely no doubt in his mind that he had been waiting for at least an hour.

He kept waiting and waiting and waiting, yet still no sign of Chrom. Ian couldn't help but think by now that maybe this was some other way the prince was getting back at him for punching him the day before and for another near related reason.

"Alright… I get it. He's furious with me. Guess we're not good then," Ian turned back toward the castle and ran a hand through his hair, the guilt and depressive feeling coming back. "Looks like he really is that good of an actor. Wonder if he and Marth could set up a play and- No, stop it. Bloke is still pissed off at you, making jokes like that isn't going to earn you any points."

Ian cursed under his breath as he became more and more disheartened when an obnoxious yet almost carefree voice called his name.

"Heya there, Ian! You look like you're ready to get some training in! This is a first, normally you'd be stuck in your books all day," Vaike cheerily walked up the tactician with his steel axe leaning across his shoulder.

Ian looked at the blonde, shirtless, muscled man panting slightly heavily and covered in sweat, a large grin plastered on his face when Ian soon caught on what was going on.

He wearily nodded before replying, "Normally, but Chrom wanted to spar a bit so he said we'd meet down here."

Vaike gasped, "A-already? He wants to spar already?" the large shirtless man caught off guard with Chrom's apparent quick recovery. "But isn't he- I mean, ahem! Yes, of course he does! Even through the death of a family member, Teach's old rival cannot overcome the urges to fight me one on one!"

"Uh…" Ian pointed out. "He wanted to spar with me."

"Don't matter!" Vaike turned on his heels and waved it off. "Teach needs to go prepare. Can't take the old, scrawny prince lightly now!"

Ian stared after Vaike in confused disbelief, shaking his head and discreetly asking himself, "What the hell?" The tactician shrugged his shoulders and decided to go back inside, wondering if the main Feroxi forces had returned with his reports.

* * *

"What!" Olivia yelled, her breathing quickening once again. "B-but that can't be! H-how are we supposed to get out of here if the door is locked?"

"I don't know!" Chrom began to panic as well.

"Can't you force the door open?" she asked.

"I'll try but… there's not a whole lot of room in here so... it's going to be pretty difficult," Chrom leaned with his back against the wall and began pushing as hard as he could, violently shaking the closet in the process.

"W-wait!" Olivia let out. "Hold on! You're going to knock it over!"

"I almost got this!" the prince grunted. The closet kept shaking and shaking, leaning onto one leg before switching to the other, Olivia kept shrieking in fear the entire time.

Footsteps were then heard and the door to the room suddenly flew open. The shaking stopped and Olivia became very quiet; the daunting creaking of floorboards slowly entered the room as Chrom felt his heart become stuck in his throat.

"That's odd... " the voice outside spoke. "I'm very sure the closet wasn't this close to the table last time I was here."

"_Ian?" _Chrom instantly thought, his face turning red in embarrassment while at the same time mentally leaping with joy. "_Ian! Yes! He's here! If I can call out to him he'll be able to let us out! Then I can talk to Frederick and Sumia and get this whole misunderstanding out of the way!" _

But something paused the young prince, just as he was about to open his mouth, he looked down on the young dancer close by his side leaning into him when he instantly thought, "_Wait, how the hell do I explain this to him though?" _

Olivia's grip on Chrom grew tighter and tighter, she no longer paid attention to what she was doing as she kept listening to the footsteps making their way to the closet. A large blush appeared on her face and Chrom was able to smell the pleasant shampoo wafting from her hair. His heart rate quickened.

"_Why are you so damn cute!" _he mentally yelled.

The closet doors suddenly flew open and Olivia let out a yelp. Chrom's face was beet-red when he stared back at his friend, Ian, staring at the two of them with his mouth hanging open in horror.

"Uh…" the tactician started.

Several awkward seconds passed before Ian slowly closed the doors and backed out of the room.

Ian walked back out into the courtyard and tapped Vaike on the shoulder before he sullenly requested, "Kill me… please…"

Chrom gave a mental sigh of relief when Ian was gone before he reached to open the doors and slowly realized.

"Wait! It's still locked! Ian! Wait! Come back!"

* * *

Several hours had passed since the unfortunate morning events. For the longest time, Chrom and Olivia were trapped in the small confines of the miniature sized closet, and in his haste to get out as quickly as possible, Chrom accidentally knocked the wooden piece of furniture over its door.

"Ow! Son of a-! How damn sturdy did they make these things?" Chrom loudly hissed.

"Owwwww…" Olivia moaned.

The prince turned his head to ask if the dancer was alright before a huge blush appeared across his cheeks.

Only mere inches away from his own, Chrom noticed Olivia's face was all scrunched up as her eyes were tightly shut, still recovering from the fall that indirectly smashed their bodies against the floor. He couldn't help but think how close their bodies were, how cute a face she made despite not being able to see a whole lot in the dark.

Fortunately there were parts of the closet where air was able to pass through, the cracks were small and few, but it was just enough for the two of them to keep breathing for just a while longer, albeit it was a tad difficult.

Chrom kept staring before Olivia opened her eyes and let out a shriek. The woman jerked back in surprise and accidentally smacked the back of her head against one of the wooden pieces, she immediately rubbed the new sore spot, "Owwww…"

"Olivia!" Chrom gave a small worried yell. "Are you alright?"

She groaned, "Ugh… yeah…"

Chrom shook his head at the girl and gave a sigh, "You should be more careful. We don't have a lot of room in here and these wood corners are pretty sharp."

Olivia nodded, "Okay…"

Seconds passed by which soon turned into minutes. The two occupants of the small closest doing nothing but stay silent and wait for someone to come by.

As they laid there in the dark, Chrom couldn't help but feel a warmth by Olivia's side as their bodies closely connected to one another's. At first he thought it was simply because of that, but he soon began to notice that his heart rate had yet to slow down since Ian's stumbling upon them. He placed a hand to his chest and felt his heartbeat still pounding quick in a hard rhythm despite the long passage of time.

"_That can't be healthy," _he thought. "_Hope it's nothing serious."_

"Um…" Olivia started after a while. "How are we going to get out now?"

Chrom scratched the back of his head and banged a fist against one of the walls expecting little. As strong as he was, there was very little room for his body to maneuver, and the only obvious way out was currently being blocked by both the floor and their bodies.

"No clue," the prince replied. "I could try to break our way out, but it's going to take a while. This closet is surprisingly sturdy for something so old. I also don't think using Falchion right now would be the best idea."

"So do we just wait?" Olivia looked almost frightened.

"I guess so," Chrom kept looking around.

Several more minutes passed before Olivia asked again, "How long do you think it'll take?"

"What?" Chrom snapped out of whatever thought he had.

"I said, "How long do you think it'll take?"" Olivia repeated.

Chrom let out a long breath, "Well, the only one who knows we're here is Ian. But I'm not sure what is running through his mind right now. He may come back if people notice we're still not there…?" Chrom trailed off sounding unsure.

"So… that could take hours," Olivia surmised.

Chrom sighed again while speaking quietly to himself, "Aw, damn it."

For the longest time the two continued to stay silent. As much as Chrom wanted to talk to the girl, he had a feeling she didn't really want to talk back. It was almost in the exact same case with Lon'qu; talking to others was always the young prince's strong suit, but with certain individuals it always seemed to require more work than it did with others.

"_Are people from Regna Ferox just bad at talking?" _the prince thought. "_But wait, that makes no sense, Khan Flavia and Basilio are practically able to talk the whole day away, especially if they had a couple of drinks_," Chrom smirked to himself. "_Guess as it is with Lon'qu, I'll have to try here."_

Chrom turned to the pink haired dancer lying quietly on her end of the closet when a thought ran to him, "_Wait, what do I say to her? Talking comes so naturally to me, but now my mind is coming to a blank. What do I say? What do I say? Um… "I saw your dancing last night and I couldn't help but think how pretty you looked"… What the hell, Chrom? You sound like a creeper if you start off like that!"_

Chrom gritted his teeth in the dark and found himself grateful that Olivia couldn't see his face at the moment when she quietly spoke up.

"Um… milord? Is it alright if I ask you a question?" Olivia shyly asked.

Chrom blinked a few times when he realized she was talking to him, "Uh… sure."

"Well, you mentioned that-"

"But, you can just call me Chrom. No need for any formal titles or anything like that! Haha!" Chrom hastily cut her off mid-sentence.

Olivia's face fell at the sudden interruption, "Oh, okay…"

Chrom was smiling brightly on the outside but was berating himself internally, "_Chrom! Chrom! What are you doing! You don't just cut a person off like that! That's rude! What kind of man are you if you do that?"_

"Err… please continue," Chrom motioned when Olivia became silent.

"Oh, uh…" Olivia jumped at Chrom's request. She tapped two of her fingers together as she inadvertently used them to obstruct her mouth. "Well…"

A couple moments passed of awkward silence when Chrom raised an eyebrow and asked, "Well…?"

"Well…" Olivia continued from there before her already quiet voice became even more so, "You mentioned back in the hallways that you said you were grabbing the papers because you wanted to thank me?"

"Oh," Chrom suddenly remembered. "Yeah, guess I did."

"Well… what did you mean by that?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Chrom scratched the back of his head, "Well, I think I said it was because I saw your dancing last night."

"Oh," Olivia said before her face became bright red, even in the darkened closet. "You did mention that… but I thought I just didn't hear you properly…"

"But it's true," Chrom smiled. "When I stumbled upon you dancing for the troops I couldn't help but stand in awe with what I saw before me. Your movements were so fluid yet powerful at the same time. Perfectly timed at moments but felt as though it came as naturally to you as breathing. You had so much passion when you danced and you looked alive and…!" Chrom didn't realize how much he was beginning to gush toward the young dancer until he saw Olivia's blush deepen the longer he spoke.

Chrom bit his tongue, "But I wasn't trying to be a creeper or anything!" he hastily spoke. "I just heard the noise and the clapping from a couple rooms down and I came to see what the commotion was about and I saw you and-!"

Olivia's lip began to quiver.

"Noooooooo!" Chrom yelled in a panic pulling at his hair. "I'm not trying to insult you or anything! I'm just-! I saw you and-! I…" Chrom finally stopped and let out a pause, trying to regain his composure before he spoke again in a softer tone. "I saw you and I felt alive in those few short moments. I felt like myself again. Ever since Emm died I've been a bloody mess. I've mourned and I cried… I did things I'll forever regret, killed good men when we could have worked something out, brutally killed a general whose only thoughts were on his men…"

"Mustafa…" Olivia quietly whispered.

"What?" Chrom looked up.

Olivia bit her lip, "General Mustafa. I… I ran into him on the way to the pick you all up. He found out what me and the others were up to when he saw the number of wagons we had. He… let us go."

Olivia stopped to catch her breath as she thought about the kind Plegian general while the guilt in Chrom's heart over the incident returned. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists, "Damn…"

Staring at the prince suffering over his actions, Olivia couldn't help but feel a sense of empathy for him. The blush faded from her cheeks and her heart rate began to slow back to normal speeds, quickening again for a bit when she reached her hand over and touched his arm.

"It's not your fault, milor-" Olivia coughed, "Ahem… C-chrom," Chrom looked up in surprise. "It's not your fault. Whatever happened, happened. You can't change that now. You had your duty and he had his, and as much as both parties wanted peace for all, that simply could not happen. Not with Gangrel… in charge…" the confidence in her voice left just as quickly as it came.

Chrom stared in awe at what Olivia said before he quietly repeated her words, "Whatever happened, happened…"

Olivia gasped, blushing red, "I didn't word it weird, did I?"

Olivia's sudden embarrassed outburst caught Chrom off guard before he began to chuckle.

"What?" the dancer asked. "What did I say?"

Chrom kept chuckling before he stopped and gave Olivia a large smile, "No, it's nothing you said. It's just that I thought I heard someone say those exact words before."

Olivia paused and pursed her lips, "Well… it is a very common saying," Chrom started laughing again.

"What!" Olivia asked indignantly now. "Prince Chrom, please! Stop laughing!"

Chrom's laughter came to a stop, but not without an uncharacteristic snort before he did so, "Alright… alright, haha. I'll stop."

Olivia gave an annoyed hum.

The prince recovered himself and let out a breath, pausing for a moment before smiling again, "Thank you."

"For what?" Olivia asked.

"For listening," Chrom continued. "For helping me out of a rut, for giving me a peace of mind when I should be mourning… For just being here… with me…" he stopped with a blush.

Olivia blushed as well but then broke into a nervous smile, "Y-you're welcome. And thank you as well, seeing how much you enjoyed my dancing makes me incredibly happy. I just didn't think it was that good to make anyone happy."

"It is," Chrom grinned.

"And I didn't think it was capable to have someone forget about the hardships in their lives, even with the recent death of…" she trailed off.

There was a pause but Chrom continued giving a kind smile and nodded, "It is…" he repeated.

"Oh," Olivia's blush deepened while she looked away. "...Thank you."

Chrom looked at the bashful dancer and couldn't stop thinking how beautiful she looked, the thought repeating over and over in his head, "You're welcome…" he whispered.

Time continued to pass by in relative silence, but this time in the very least, it no longer held the awkward air it did before. Now it was one of thankfulness and understanding, both members looking away from one another, bashfully blushing.

Olivia yawned, "How much longer do we have to wait?"

Chrom shrugged, "Could be a couple more hours."

"Ah…"

The dancer's eyes began to droop and struggled to stay open after several more minutes.

"Tired?" Chrom asked.

Olivia looked up with her eyes suddenly wide, "Huh? What? N-no, not at all! I'm not tired!"

Chrom frowned, "You were up pretty late last night, dancing really is a tiring job."

"I'm fine," Olivia shook her head.

Chrom didn't buy it, "Hey, you're tired and it's a bit dark in here, you being sleepy right now is nothing to be ashamed of. Besides," he continued. "As I said, it may take a couple more hours until any form of help arrives, sleeping right now may speed up the waiting process a bit."

"But-" Olivia protested.

"I won't do anything weird," Chrom said, giving a reassuring smile. "I promise."

Olivia stared for several more seconds in anxious thought before she finally gave it, "A-alright then, as long as you keep your promise and don't do anything weird."

Chrom nodded, "I won't."

"Alright…" Olivia smiled before nodding off to sleep. "Thank you."

"Sweet dreams," Chrom whispered, watching as the pink haired girl entered a peaceful, quiet state.

"Wow…" Chrom couldn't help but say as he stared at Olivia's sleeping form. "_Even now she looks incredible," _Olivia unknowingly giggled and Chrom blinked in surprise, soon returning to a smile. "_Even her laugh itself is lovely…"_

Chrom caught himself as he listened to her breathe, "_Wait, Chrom. What are you thinking? Thoughts like this shouldn't be running through your mind, a woman just gave you her trust not to do anything weird to her while she slept not even a few inches from you. Control yourself!"_

"But, she is beautiful…" Chrom silently whispered before looking around the tight closet and sighed.

"_Well, it could take a couple more hours until Ian finally comes back and gets us out of this mess, may as well get some shut eye in the meantime."_

Chrom yawned and stretched his back in the very small space he had, looking at Olivia's slow rising and falling form as she peacefully slept. Chrom smiled and said his last thank you before drifting off to sleep.

* * *

There was a loud bang of a door violently being thrown open.

"Oh crap! Chrom! Damn it! I had a feeling I shouldn't have left him like this! Vaike, help me get this up!"

"Huh?" Chrom suddenly woke up, confused with what was going on. "Why is there… Oh shi-"

"Heave!" Ian yelled. "Heave!" the closet suddenly began to lift, waking up a sleeping Olivia in the process.

"Huh!" Olivia started.

"Gaius, are you just going to stand there or help or what?" Ian asked.

"Hey, I'm just here to admire the hard work you two are putting into that lift. I'm good from over here."

"Damn princey is heavier than I thought!" Vaike grunted. "What the heck do they feed him over there?"

"Lift with your legs," Gaius suggested.

"Shut up, Gaius!" Ian yelled. "Get your butt over here and help us out!"

Gaius rolled his eyes, "Fine, fine. Whatever…"

With great tremendous effort on the part of the two men and Gaius pretending to help lift, the old oaken closet was finally brought back to its feet, but not before the bodies of Chrom and Olivia fell out of it in the process. The two screamed when they tumbled out.

Shock ran across Ian and Vaike's face, the former unwilling to confirm what he saw earlier and the latter unwilling to believe what he was told.

Gaius stood off to the side with a neutral face nodding his approval.

"Nice."

Chrom and Olivia quickly stood up and brushed the dust off their clothes. Once they recovered, Olivia stared at the three men with large watery eyes and a blush to end all blushes.

"I-! I mean er-! It-! What-! Eek! Aaaahhh!" Olivia ran screaming out of the room.

"Ow…" Chrom rubbed his head and stretched every part of his body. "That hurt…" He looked up to find Ian raising an eyebrow at him, Gaius still nodding with a lollipop in his mouth and hands on his hips, and Vaike emotionally tearing up.

"Vaike?" Chrom suddenly became concerned.

"I-! I can't believe it!" the shirtless man screamed. "Chrom! My old rival! Has finally become a man and gone for the plunge!"

Chrom's face fell, "Huh?"

"After all these years I thought I would never see the day! But I was wrong! For once in my whole life, ol' Teach is wrong! It's… it's.. so beautiful!" he cried.

"V-vaike…" Chrom reached forward to correct his friend. "It's not what it looked like."

"Oh?" Gaius spoke up with eyebrows raised and a mischievous grin on his face. ""Not what it looked like,"? But it looked everything what it looked like."

"Gaius…" Chrom's tone turned dangerous. "I am telling the truth. It's not what it looks like."

"Reeaaalllyyy?" The thief's eyebrows continued to rise.

"Yes!" Chrom yelled.

"Really, really?" his grin widened.

"Yes, really!" Chrom roared, becoming annoyed. "I only brought her into that closet with me because Frederick and Sumia were chasing-"

"Pffftttt, sure," Gaius laughed.

"It is-!"

"Pffftttt!"

"It-!"

"Pfffffffttttttt!"

"Gaius!"

"Pffffffffffffttttttttt!"

Chrom yelled wordlessly reaching for his hilt where Falchion normally was and found it missing, the sword had accidentally fallen out of the scabbard during the tumble and onto the floor. His face beet-red when he picked it up and turned to his tactician, "Ian! You know what I say is true, right?"

Ian became very still, eyes switching back and forth between the laughing thief, the dangerously enraged prince, and the emotionally sobbing fighter. His eyes finally fell back to Chrom and he let out a breath, slowly pursing his lips before he finally let out...

"Pffffffffffffffttttttttttttttttt!"

"Damn it, Ian! I'm going to kill you!"

* * *

The four men walked out of the small servant's room back toward the chow hall with two of the men laughing their arses off, another looking like he was going to strangle the both of them very soon, and a fourth loudly wiping away at his tears as he continued to sob in happiness.

"So beautiful!" Vaike cried.

"Shut up, Vaike," Chrom said, eyeing the two laughing men with murderous intent. "And you two! Stop laughing! I swear if you keep doing that I will personally execute you both!"

"Oh, come on, Blue!" Gaius tried to stifle his laughter as he held both hands to his sides. "You have to admit it was pretty funny!"

"No I don't," the prince deadpanned.

"Come on, lighten up. They say laughter is the best medicine," Ian and Gaius broke into a another fit of laughter.

"I hate you both," Chrom grudgingly muttered.

"So beautiful…" Vaike repeated.

"Vaike…" Chrom threatened.

Ian and Gaius's laughter soon began to die down, "Alright, alright…" the tactician still struggled. "We'll stop."

"Thank you…" Chrom muttered.

"Maybe," Gaius spoke.

Chrom gave the thief another death-glare before he quickly conceded, "Okay, alright. I got you. No need to get your royal pantaloons all in a bunch."

The prince let out a slow growl, "Thank you…"

"But really, what on earth happened back there? Didn't think it was that bad," Ian asked as they passed a window showing the desert sunset.

"Nothing," Chrom grunted. "Nothing you need to know."

"Aw, what a shame," Gaius acted as if disappointed. "Would have loved to know how the Prince himself got all down and dirty with one of Regna Ferox's finest dancers."

"You know we're just going to keep bugging you until you tell us," Ian laughed.

Chrom growled, "No you're not, especially you Ian. I still haven't forgotten what happened yesterday," Ian suddenly became quiet as a deadly, awkward silence filled the air. Even Gaius became very quiet around the threatening prince. Vaike kept sniffing.

Within a few more paces, the blue haired man let out a sigh and apologized, "Alright, look, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to bring up the death card… This is just something I don't want to talk about."

Ian shook his head, "No, it's fine. I understand, we won't pry."

"Lips are sealed, Blue," Gaius agreed, making the motion with his hand.

"Thank you," Chrom gratefully replied.

Vaike finally stopped crying, "O-okay, I'm good."

"Damn, Vaike, didn't know you were capable of crying that long, or crying… at all," Ian commented. Chrom and Gaius chuckled.

"Shut yer mouth," Vaike wiped at his eyes. "The Vaike can be as emotional as he wants, it unlocks more potential to become more of a man later on. Plus the chicks love that stuff."

"Chicks love that stuff," Gaius raised his eyebrows at Chrom.

"Gaius…" Chrom threatened.

"Okay, I'm done," he quickly clamped up.

Everyone walked in relative silence, passing by familiar windows and vases when Chrom spoke up, "So, Ian, what were you up to today? Especially since I was… uh… missing, for a good part of it. Sorry about that by the way," he turned to Ian.

Ian shook his head again and waved it off, "It's fine. Water under the bridge, don't worry about it," he placed both hands behind his hands as he looked up. "Well, I guess after I sparred with Vaike after stumbling upon your uh, awkward scene… I guess I went to check with Basilio to ask where my reports were," Chrom's face fell. "After finding out they were given to Olivia to hand to me, I went searching for them. Checked our room, checked Basilio's room, checked Flavia's room, woman has a lot of booze lying around by the way, asked Vaike and Gaius for help, walked back to the room you were in to check if they were there, and there we are, we find the large awkward holding closet lying smack down on its side."

Chrom gripped, "So… uh… I take it was an interesting day?" he nervously asked.

"Interesting day," Ian deadpanned.

"Good, good," Chrom rushed. He turned back to Ian, "So, I also take it you never found those reports?"

"Nope," Ian answered, shaking his head.

Chrom scratched his head while he looked away, "You know, uh, I may be able to help you find where those reports are-"

"I know you dun goofed," Ian quickly replied, lowering his eyebrows. "You were sleeping with the messenger all day."

Chrom flinched before his shoulders sagged, "Yeah… alright. You got me there…"

"He admits it," Gaius spoke up.

"No, no I didn't!" the fire returned to Chrom's eyes. Gaius visually surrendered before he turned back to Ian and suggestively raised his eyebrows.

As the four finally returned to familiar territory, Ian noticed there was one window that was larger than the others up ahead. When they neared he realized they were glass doors that led to a balcony outside, and outside on that balcony sat the lone figure of Libra on the marble railings staring iconically into the sunset.

Ian stopped walking and stared distractedly at the stoic priest. Chrom, Gaius, and Vaike stopped as well when they noticed their friend had stopped moving.

"Ian?" Chrom asked, confused at his friend's sudden change of pace.

Ian kept staring at Libra through the glass doors and waved them off, "You guys go on ahead, there's something I need to do first, I'll be with you guys in a quick sec," Chrom followed Ian's gaze out the doors and slowly nodded his head in understanding, motioning for the two other Shepherds to follow him as they walked to the chow hall.

The white haired tactician stared after his friends before he looked at Libra and gave a preparatory exhale, slowly walking forward and grabbing the handle as he opened the door.

Libra lost his train of thought when he heard the door behind him open, expecting to find a certain blonde haired noble but was surprised to find Ian walking through instead. The tactician gave a wave and the priest nodded back, turning back toward the horizon after their silent greeting.

Ian made his way over the the railings and leaned on his elbows over the side, quietly musing to himself as he mimicked Libra's gaze.

Several minutes of silence passed before Ian broke the quiet and tried to make conversation, "So, what are you doing out here by yourself?"

The priest stayed quiet for a moment longer before he shifted his weight and replied, "Staring at the sunset."

"Well, that's easy to see," Ian said, noticing the priest's lack of speech. "But why?"

Libra sighed, "I guess I just needed some time for myself, I suppose."

"Ah," Ian nodded in understanding, becoming silent once more. He traced little circles in the marble railings before he spoke up, "Your friends?"

The priest nodded.

Ian nodded again and sighed, "I'm… sorry we couldn't get there in time. Had I known, we would have shown up sooner-"

"It's fine," Libra cut him off.

The tactician reeled back as if struck, feeling the priest's soft but cold tone when he spoke. Unlike Chrom who easily showed his emotions when either sadness or anger came into play, Libra had an air of melancholy about him. His eyes shed no tears and his features were like an empty slate, nothing was shown and almost nothing could have been read.

Libra just stared, staring off into the cold blanket of space as the sun lowered down from the sky.

Ian shook his head and let out another exhale, deciding now not to gauge but simply approach, "What were they like?"

"What?" Libra turned his head.

"Your friends," Ian stared straight ahead while twiddling his thumbs. "Tell me what they were like. Surely there is something you can tell."

The priest quietly thought for a moment before he somberly answered.

"They were kind, brave, strong, goofy, serious, determined, fast, smart, faithful, funny, adventurous, lazy, incredible, extraordinary," he began to give a small smile. "Always willing to put others before them, always performing their duties, sometimes putting themselves before their duties…" Ian raised an eyebrow and Libra continued to list off their traits, "A cook, a singer, a family man, a comedian, an adventurer, a runner, a scholar, an angel, a fighter, a leader…" he choked. "An aspiring young boy… a… strong and inspiring woman and friend."

Ian nodded, showing his sympathy on the outside but was astounded to hear him describe so much in so little time on the inside.

"You described more than two people just now, didn't you?" Ian asked after he regained his composure.

Libra closed his eyes and nodded, "Aye, I did."

"How many?"

"Twelve," Libra answered without missing a beat. "There were thirteen of us in total, twelve of us died. I am all that remains."

Ian looked down at the courtyard below and stared back at the sun, biting his lip when he apologized a second time, "I'm so sorry."

"It is alright," Libra repeated. "We all volunteered to conduct the mission in saving Exalt Emmeryn's life, whether we failed or not was out of the question, but we were willing to give up our lives if that's what it took. Only Naga knew of our fates."

Ian sighed and quietly whispered, "But we didn't."

"No," Libra somberly agreed. "We didn't…"

They continued watching the sunset as it completely disappeared behind the horizon, it's orange and purple glow replaced by the darkness of night. The first stars shining brightly as more came to join in their place.

"It is beautiful though," Libra whispered. "Isn't it?"

"Aye, it is," Ian nodded. "I always wondered what it would be like up there, how bright the stars truly are."

"Maybe, if Naga be willing, we will one day be able to travel there and see for ourselves?" Libra asked.

Ian smirked, "I don't doubt it."

He continued watching the coming of the heavenly lights and smiled.

"I don't doubt it… not one bit."

Libra nodded as he shifted his position and turned around, sliding off the railings and landing back on stable floor.

Ian turned his head and asked, "Not staying to watch?"

"No," the priest sadly smiled. "No, I think it is time for me to retire for the evening. Read from the holy scripture and pray before I set about to my rest."

"You're not going to eat with us for supper? Food ain't half bad," the tactician offered.

Libra shook his head again, "I believe I have eaten enough for today."

"Alright then," Ian conceded before he randomly thought, "Well, before you go, I just want to say a quick thank you and to tell you there is another person in the Shepherds that has dealt with a similar fate to yours. Her name is Cordelia, pegasus knight, red hair, genius, very beautiful and stunning, uh…" Ian caught himself before he drifted off topic. "But, I'm very sure the two of you can have a bit to talk about if you ever need someone to relate to," the tactician lamely finished.

The blonde haired priest ruminate a bit over the suggestion before he eventually answered, "I may be a bit interested."

Ian smiled, "Good, chances are she'll be in the chow hall with the others, you can walk up to her now or wait 'til later, it's up to you."

The priest smiled and bowed his head, "Thank you, tactician."

The white haired tactician smiled back, "You're very welcome sister… er... brother," he quickly caught himself

Libra smiled and then turned to leave but stopped himself when he gave a small chuckle, "You know, I don't believe I ever got your name?"

"It's Ian," the white haired man answered. "Amnesiac and the Shepherd's chief tactician… but I suppose you already knew that last part."

Libra smiled and nodded, "My name is Libra, priest and war monk to the Holy Church of Naga, one of the church's many male priests… though I suppose you already knew that last part as well."

Ian smirked, "I may have been able to guess," he made a little pinching motion with his two fingers. "Just maybe."

Libra laughed.

"Well, I suppose this is goodnight then. May the gods bless you and I hope to see you again on the morrow," he gave another bow before leaving for the warmth filled castle.

"See you," Ian quietly waved before turning back to watch in awe of the sudden collection of stars.

"Beautiful…" he whispered. "Just beautiful."

* * *

An hour had passed since Ian sat outside completely mesmerized by the sky's shining lights. It wasn't until he began to feel the desert's harsh, cold winds and the rumblings in his stomach did he realize that he missed supper.

Walking back inside wondering if there was any food left downstairs, the tactician couldn't help but feel a cold chill long after he had closed the balcony doors.

"_Damn, maybe I need a new coat. This guy has been through a lot of wear and tear, but I didn't think it got this bad. It was completely fine when we were walking outside on our way to the capital and when it rained. Why is it all of a sudden-?"_

Ian paused when he felt another really cold chill.

"Damn it, I'm out," he cursed. "_Need some food now to warm myself up. Also a really nice, warm fireplace; I hope Chrom isn't hogging it again tonight."_

A soft whisper danced through Ian's ears.

The white haired tactician turned around in the darkened hallway and felt a tingling in his spine when he thought he heard someone spoke.

"Hello?" he quietly asked.

Nothing but silence.

"_Huh," _Ian thought. "_Must be the hunger getting to me. I really should get-"_

Another whisper.

Ian felt a tingling on both the marks that laid on his right hand and back; a small burning sensation that was barely noticeable to the tactician.

From the far corners of his mind, something motioned for him to follow. Ian took a step forward and walked down the path he came, away from the chow hall and away from the kitchens, hunger forgotten as he followed the inaudible voices.

Sounds of people talking and hushed whispers echoed in Ian's mind, men and women talking at rapid paces as the young man walked by.

Every now and then Ian felt as though he was going to drown in the sea of voices, and just as he was about to suffocate in his walk, a loud, joyful laughter broke the stream of sounds followed by another, more womanly one, followed again by a third of a much younger, more baby tone.

The three individual laughters sounded familiar to Ian. He was unsure why, but it sounded of warmth.

Onwards he walked through the empty, desolate halls, darkness and sound ever ready to consume him, but always saved at the last minute by the sound of the three laughs.

For the longest time this process continued until Ian came to a flight of spiral stairs. The quick, unknown voices fading away, leaving behind the quiet talkings of the two of the three laughs.

_...Must be nice not having a care in the world..._

_...No way in the world am I going to be your mother… And you have work to do..._

"_They sound… fragmented," _Ian thought to himself as he climbed the spiral staircase. "_I wonder what they're saying?"_

_...Sounds like fun_. _I'd do it for you, but I like having my feet planted on the ground with a sword in hand…_

_...Exalt Liam is still raving about oh how Plegia is some sort of evil empire for our beliefs. Crazy old man…_

_...It's fine. I'm willing to make the sacrifice, especially if it makes mother and father happy…_

"_What the hell is going on?" _Ian thought. "_The conversation is so jumbled up it makes no sense!" _His heart continued to pound quicker and quicker until he finally reached a door and heard the creaking of floorboards on the other side.

_...Alright. Have a good night…_

_...You too…_

The footsteps became louder and louder and Ian flinched when he reached for the doorknob, the sound of wind brushed through him and the sounds of a door opening and closing ringed loudly in his ears, but the door in front of him remained still.

Ian no longer felt the burning on his hand or back as he stood at the doorway in a cold sweat, biting his lips in fear when he heard the sounds of a child's laughter.

He reached for the handle.

_...Silly boy…_

What Ian saw before him when he opened the door was a fairly large master bedroom with a queen sized bed, a connecting bathroom, and a small balcony overlooking the desert.

Ian slowly walked inside and felt a familiarity with the room, the voices all fading away as his mind entered a state of relative ease. He looked to his right and walked over to the small balcony, subconsciously opening the glass doors and stepping outside onto the terrace.

As he leaned over the marble railings, Ian felt a warmth from the sun despite it long disappearing over the horizon. The chill was gone and no winds blew, Ian couldn't help but lean his head back and smile and bask in the nonexistent sun's warmth.

Once the warmth faded, Ian turned around when he thought he heard a sound coming from the bed; a slight bump made the tactician jump. He walked over to the bed confused, noticing the sand that snuck into the room over the years moved over the sides of the sheets and strewn all over the nearby floor. He turned his head when he smelled candle smoke and saw that a few of them were hastily extinguished.

"_Someone has been here recently…"_ he thought.

However all of that was forgotten when the man heard the sound of a moaning baby. He looked back down on the bed and felt a small, lingering presence there. Ian couldn't help but smile again as he leaned forward and kissed the imaginary baby's head.

He stood back up and sighed, "_What is the heck is wrong with me? What am I doing?"_

Ian stood staring down on the sleeping baby that wasn't there when the whispering voices soon came back, urging him out of the room and somewhere else. The warmth in the room faded and Ian reluctantly obeyed, staring down the dark staircase before walking outside.

As the bedroom door let out a small click, a female figure slowly rose from under the bed, groaning and rubbing their head as they stared back at the door the tactician had just previously exited.

The voices in Ian's head became more and more frantic the longer he walked, he no longer heard the laughter of the three voices. The ashen haired tactician kept walking in a general direction after he left the flight of stairs, afraid but at the same time feeling nothing as he passed by windows and broken vases. He wasn't possessed by any stretch of the imagination, his thoughts were his own and he moved in whatever way and direction he felt like, but he followed the voices, curious in where they wanted him to go.

Though he did start to have his doubts when he saw an ominously shattered window and burn marks plastered all over the walls.

Ian looked left and felt a panic rising in his heart for no other reason than it simply did, he stepped forward and followed the blackened corridor. He came across a door on his left that was blown off its hinges, holding unsteadily on its side while the wood looked about ready to come apart at the slightest touch.

It suddenly fell to the floor when Ian walked by, startling him.

Once he entered the room, Ian felt the dread in his heart continue to rise, the burning sensation on his back and hand quickly returning, burning at a rapid pace and his lungs feeling as though they were about to burst. Everything was darker than normal, as if someone had put a cloth over his eyes.

He stood on a stage overlooking a great, empty space; unlit torches standing with each pillar that walked their way to a pair of two large, double doors. As he walked toward the center of the stage, Ian found it harder and harder to breath, he began to panic and wanted to cry in fear. He couldn't see and he couldn't breath, he brought his arms tightly together as he held his shoulders and gripped his coat.

He felt as if he was about to die from suffocation.

But once he finally reached the center stage he fell to his knees, the veil lifted from his eyes and he could brightly see as well as he could in the already darkened room and air rushed for his lungs as he heavily gasped to breathe.

Ian wasn't sure if his actions were his own anymore.

Once the confused tactician regained his breath, he shakily rose to his feet, he felt as if there was a crack in the ceiling and the sun was pouring whatever light it had through to shine only on him. Ian closed his eyes and lifted his arms, his thoughts by this point had stopped, he was at peace and felt no fear.

The burning in his hand and back intensified but he didn't care. He thought nothing and felt nothing but joy.

He smiled.

But after several moments a scream broke the silence and Ian stepped back startled. His eyes opened wide in fear and saw a flash of light before him, the pain in his hand and back finally exploded and the tactician fell to the ground. He felt something inside him like metal, piercing his stomach and running him completely through. Ian tried to scream but couldn't, imaginary blood fell from his lips and he let out a strangled gurgle. His vision soon began to darken.

Ian curled up in a ball and cried in pain, the light from above began to fade and so did his vision. The burning sensations on his hand and back also slowly disappeared.

The crying tactician held a pathetic sight, whimpering in pain as Ian's mind began to return to him.

"_It's so cold," _Ian thought as he lied on the wooden stage. "_But at the same time it's so hot. Why is it so hot? Is there a fire? I need to get out of here…" _Explosions permeated his mind as well as the anguished screams of several men. All of this followed by the calming rhythmic sounds of beating wings and the soft whimper of a small child.

"_It's so hot," _Ian repeated in his mind as a cold sweat flushed over him. "_But at the same time… so cool…"_

A shadowy figure walked over to the fading tactician before his mind fell to darkness.

* * *

Ian felt as if his body was floating, moving at a slow but steady pace through the halls of the sleeping castle.

"_Where am I?" _he thought.

His arms felt as if they were slung over two shoulders, one on his left and the other on his right. After several minutes of uncertainty, the forward movement came to a steady halt.

"Can you carry him the rest of the way?" a familiar voice asked.

Another voice scoffed, "Yes. I can manage on my own."

"Good," the first replied as Ian's left arm fell to his side. "Please, when you return, do not tell the others I was here."

There was a pause.

"I can't keep that promise. I'm not exactly the most trusting type."

The first voice sighed, "Well, I suppose that is the best response I can get. Thank you, and stay safe," footsteps echoed off into the distance behind him.

The second voice scoffed again and let out a "Tch," slowly reaching around Ian's torso to lift him up for a split second before grabbing his right arm with both hands and walking forward.

"Where are we…?" Ian moaned with his eyes still closed.

There was a stutter in the person's footsteps that almost dropped the tactician but quickly recovered, letting out an exhausted breath before answering, "We're in the hallways, returning back to the… others. You need to sleep."

"Tharja…?" Ian groggily asked.

The dark mage paused for a second before continuing their walk, "Yes…" she answered.

"What are you doing here?" the tactician asked.

"I… noticed you weren't present during dinner and I became worried. I followed my senses and I found you curled up in a ball crying on the floor… It was kind of cute…" she quietly whispered that last part.

"Huh…" Ian let out before trying to regain the feeling back in his legs. "Normally I would be a bit embarrassed about that last bit… But for right now, I don't think my mind is in any state to care right now."

"I'll take care of you," Tharja smirked. "Veeery good care of you."

"Thank you," Ian smiled, his mind exhausted by this point. "You're a good friend…" he closed his eyes and momentarily drifted off.

The dark mage paused to look at Ian's sleeping form hanging off her body, a bright blush appearing across her face as she leaned her head into his neck, giggling softly before she picked him up again with a renewed vigor and carried him off through the night.

* * *

**There we go, shameless shipping is shameless, haha.**

**Before we get into the swing of things, yes, I pulled that scenario. To be honest though, when I was thinking of ways to get Olivia and Chrom to interact with one another and the idea with the closet popped up, I just simply thought it was a funny idea. It wasn't until I was about halfway through writing that scene did I realize, "Huh, now that I think about it, I'm very sure a lot of animes have done this scene before..." I just simply shrugged the thought and went, eh, might as well. I needed to get Chrom back on his feet as soon as possible, because if you think about it from a tactical standpoint, Gangrel's army can easily push into Ylisse with little resistance if something isn't done soon. Sure Ylisse has an army back home, but I imagined it became very small during Emmeryn's rule. I just hope the reasons for Chrom's quick recovery is reasonably justified. I also wanted his scene with Olivia to be as awkward as possible, so if I accomplished that, then sweet, haha! Also with Chrom being unable to push open the doors for the closet despite the fact he is one of the strongest Shepherds around, should be taken with a grain of salt, I just used the fact he had no room as a justification. Ah well. I've also changed the destination after Emmeryn's death from Regna Ferox to a castle out in the middle of the Plegian desert, it's nothing major in the game's plot but it does hold weight here.**

**I also hope I didn't make some of the characters appear OOC here, especially Sumia. I've always viewed her as determined, but her main fault was always her clumsiness. But when she is ready to take names, she is ready to take names. She does seem to be in awe of Frederick in their supports though.**

**All in all, this was one of the more fun chapters to write, it had much of the same feeling as in some of the earlier chapters in my opinion and I loved that. Not as depressing and also able to cause some laughs. Anyways, guys, review the story or just simply read, it's all good as long as you guys are enjoying it, haha. Have a good one everyone and take care. Lets see 2015 become an awesome year! **


	8. Chapter 7: Artillery and Kings

**Hello again, everyone. Sorry for the long wait. I'd say things have been popping up but that's not really the case. Remember when I mentioned last chapter that I was building a computer and that it was going to be a beast? Well, I did build it, and it is a beast. However during the middle of January I received a random gift from a friend through Steam as a late "Christmas Present." Game was Skyrim and needless to say I spent more time playing that game than I really should have. And for that I apologize. Game easily runs on ultra-high though, heh heh... But again, this chapter really shouldn't have taken that long.**

**But the chapter is finally here, so as always, I hope you enjoy. **

* * *

**Chapter 7: Artillery and Kings**

Days had passed since the Shepherds and the Feroxian Army had bunkered down in the old Plegian castle; weary bones and wet clothing began to fade, physically removing any traces of the day they most horrifically lost. And yet, with Prince Chrom's unexpected lift in attitude, many began to feel their hopes rise as they prepared for the day they would all finally harvest the retribution that their enemies so hastily sought.

Plans were created, revised, and laid out. Training exercises were constantly in motion, the Feroxi soldiers and Ylissean Shepherds worked as hard as they could outdoors so their bodies would adapt under the Plegian sun.

And after all their hard work in so few, short days, the morning of the operation had finally come, waking a sleeping tactician who was instantly awake the moment the sun hit the horizon.

Ian sat up and yawned, scratching the back of his head whilst his eyes roamed around the room. Several of the Shepherds were still asleep but many more had already left the sleeping quarter, excited and unable to stay in slumber with the attack on Gangrel being so close now.

He also noticed that Chrom's sleeping bag was gone as well.

The tactician soon rolled up his bag and left the room, prepared to work on and conduct any last minute changes to the plans once he met with Khan Flavia and Basilio.

According to the reports by the Feroxian Army that arrived several days prior, the army fought with the Plegians to a standstill with heavy casualties on both sides. The Feroxis moved north in an attempt to "retreat" and the Plegians were in no shape to give pursuit, allowing their enemies ample time to move and eventually change directions west around one of the country's great lakes and regroup with the Shepherds in the abandoned castle.

Gangrel and his men would move north as fast as they could in order to stop their enemies from retreating across the border. This form of reckless abandon and with General Mustafa's forces no longer in commission would force the Plegians to move even faster toward the Anguis lake and eventually westward as well.

This placed Gangrel's tired army almost directly north of the Shepherd's current position.

Once Ian met up with with the two Feroxian leaders, the three went over the plans one last time before the khans moved to assemble their forces and give a final celebration for the lives of their dead. Ian then moved to prepare and assemble the Shepherds.

Ian walked into the castle parlour that lacked its former grandeur and was made into a makeshift armory, finding an almost empty room with a single occupant inside. That occupant was Frederick.

"Hey," Ian smiled pleasantly toward the knight before he took a cushioned seat by a windowsill and sat down, bringing out his blade, a stone slab, and a wipe to clean.

Frederick grunted.

Ian quirked an eyebrow at the knight's cold response, "Is something the matter?"

"You know what the matter is," the knight cryptically replied, causing the tactician to involuntarily flinch.

Ian thought for a moment while he paused from sharpening his weapon and bit his lip until the memory from a few days ago came flooding back to him. His face darkened when he spoke, "...Are you serious?"

Frederick kept staring at the plate of armor he was polishing, "Yes I am, tactician."

Ian clenched his teeth before he went back to work on his sword, "Look, I understand your dedication to protecting Chrom. But you also have to see why I couldn't just let you chase after him like that-"

"I understand your reasoning," Frederick cut him off.

"Then why then?" Ian asked exasperated. "Why didn't you just listen to me? You didn't even get to freakin' Chrom. We found you by a damn ditch covered in mud and bleeding half dead!"

"Because it was my duty!" Frederick almost yelled as he finally stared the tactician in the eye before calming down a little. "Ever since the late Exalt... " he paused as he reevaluated his words, "Ever since Emmeryn came to be the next ruler of Ylisse, ever since her mother and father died, I have been depended upon to take care of Chrom and Lissa. She gave up everything in order to protect and restore the Halidom; her dreams, her cheer, what she wanted to be, who she once was…" the great knight shamefully looked away. "She even gave up on the idea of…"

Ian kept staring in enraptured silence when Frederick didn't finish his sentence before he realized, "Wait… you just said Chrom and Lissa."

The somber look left Frederick's eyes and his sternness returned, "Yes. What of it?"

The tactician fidgeted a little in his seat, "Well… it's just that I've never heard you mention Chrom's name before without a title or formal… whatever. Much less Lissa or even Emmeryn's."

Frederick's eyes narrowed, "What are you rambling about? I have most certainly mentioned my liege's name without a "formal whatever"".

Ian struggled with the thought, "Are you sure? Because this is my first time hearing it."

"You are missing the point," Frederick grew visibly annoyed.

"Alright, alright," Ian apologized before he sobered down, letting out a breath. "So… is that the reason? Is that why you're always so overzealous about protecting Chrom?"

Frederick went back to polishing the small breastplate and quietly spoke, "I wouldn't be here right now if it weren't for her…"

"What?" Ian asked.

Frederick shook his head, "No, it's nothing. I shouldn't have said anything. Leave it be. Forget I said anything."

Ian looked confused before he reluctantly obeyed, "Um… alright."

The two went back to preparing their armor and weapons in an awkward silence when Ian spoke up once again, "Are you really going to go against me on this? That you would so easily throw your life away?"

Frederick lifted the small breastplate up and inspected his work, frowning after several seconds before he proceeded to perfect the already glowing metal, "Protecting Prince Chrom and Princess Lissa is my life. You know that."

Ian sighed, "Yes I do…"

Frederick nodded, "Good."

But Ian continued, "So there really is nothing?"

"Nothing," Frederick confirmed.

"Fine," Ian growled before going back to his work. As he continued to sharpen his blade, uneven edges began to appear on the sword due to his forceful carelessness which in turn irritated him even more. He turned his head and his eyes lowered on the plate of armor still in Frederick's hands. He grunted.

"Hmm?" Frederick looked up, seemingly annoyed with Ian's attitude.

Ian went back to correcting his blade before he requested, "You know, if you're not going to be more careful with your life for me, then at least do it for her."

"Her?" Frederick quirked a brow.

"For Sumia," Ian kept sharpening. "If you were to die, what kind of impact do you think that'll do to her?"

Frederick contemplated the question for a second before he stared at the piece of armor in his hands, "She would learn to move on."

"Do you honestly think I'd fall for that, Frederick?" Ian harshly asked.

"What?" Frederick asked, surprised at the tactician's sudden rise in hostility.

"Ever since I joined the Shepherds, Sumia always had a clumsy demeanor about her. One of the first things she did when I first met her was trip on her face. It was painful to watch. But over time I learned that this was a somewhat normal occurrence. The second thing I noticed however was her devotion and loyalty to Chrom which was almost borderline attraction," Frederick turned away at the comment but Ian continued. "And yet something changed during our trip to Regna Ferox. Frederick! Look at me!" Ian spoke toward the great knight in a harsh tone as he reluctantly turned. "From the hints I took from her behavior and the comments from the other Shepherds, I honestly thought she had an attraction for Chrom. But one day I noticed that the two of you were hanging around together quite often, and what may have started as some job or assignment, most likely blossomed into something else. I assigned the two of you together during the assassination attempt as bit of an experiment."

"You what?" Frederick asked in shocked anger.

Ian gave a threatening look, "Sue me. You can kill me over that idea later. But from what I saw, none of you objected to the idea. Now this could have simply meant the two of you were just doing your duties and the adrenaline of an incoming fight overridden everything else. It was a passing thought and I thought nothing of it later on. But it wasn't until you and Sumia ran off together to protect two random strangers out in the middle of a desert did the idea return to me. Everything else after that was just evidence that kept piling up in favor of my suspicions."

Frederick was quiet for a moment before he slowly asked, "So this entire time you've been monitoring our behaviors?"

"Not exactly," Ian's tone softened as he picked up a cloth to clean his sword. "It was just simply that, it became more and more obvious as time went on. Rarely did I ever see the two of you apart aside from the occasional assignment or scouting patrol. And also, to be honest," Ian chuckled. "I don't think I've ever seen you smile so much before, not even around Chrom or Lissa, who as you stated, became your life."

Frederick continued to hold the small breastplate in his hands and Ian stared. The ashen haired man asked, "She became your life as well, hasn't she?"

"Is it true?" the knight asked, though the question seemed to be more for himself and less toward the tactician.

Ian shrugged, "Maybe it's because you haven't realized it yet or it's because I am absolutely wrong. But from what I'm seeing, Sumia cares about you too, very deeply. And if something were to happen to you, like something stupid such as death, then there is not a doubt in my mind that she will be the one who will be the most devastated."

Frederick did another wipe on the plate and Ian watched, "But… on a lighter note… She'll love that armor when she sees how much work you put into shining it."

Frederick looked up, a faint glimmer of hope in his eyes before he slowly turned away, "Do you… really think so?"

The tactician smiled, "Sure I do," he got up. "Just… keep in my mind what I said, alright? We have a major battle coming up in a few hours, so make sure you survive. For her sake."

Frederick nodded while staring straight ahead, "I will. Thank you. I... need some time to think."

Ian nodded back in response, "Got it. I'll see you in a few," and with that he walked out the door.

Once he was outside, Ian couldn't help but chuckle at the stoic knight's bashful change in behavior. After that he decided to grab a quick bite in the chow hall before the Shepherds assembled for the march on King Gangrel's location. On his way there though, the tactician ran into Chrom, the young prince had a searching look in his eyes when he noticed Ian's presence.

"Ian," Chrom called out when he approached. "Have you by chance seen Olivia around here?"

"Oh?" Ian started, laughing at Chrom's mention of the dancer's name. "Olivia? Why are you looking for Olivia?"

Chrom's face became serious, "Because ever since that incident with the closet I feel as though she has been avoiding me. I need to find her and clear any misunderstandings up."

"Why would she be avoiding you?" his friend asked.

Chrom shrugged, "Don't know. Could have been what happened in the closet or I may have said something to upset her. Whatever it is I need to find her."

"What did happen in that closet?" Ian quirked an eyebrow.

"For the hundredth time, Ian, nothing happened in the damn closet," Chrom growled, bringing a hand to his face. "Why can't you just believe me?"

"Look," Ian shrugged. "As you said, it may have been something you said in the closet. I'm just trying to figure out what it may be."

The prince sighed while both closing his eyes and crossing his arms before he reluctantly answered, "...We talked about how to get out, I told her about her dancing, we exchanged some thank yous, and we fell asleep. That's all there was."

"That doesn't really help me except maybe about the part where you told her of your spying on her," Ian flatly said.

"I wasn't spying on her!" Chrom defended. "I entered the room, saw her dancing and left! It wasn't intentional or anything!"

Ian raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips, "You know, ever since you met Olivia, you've been a lot easier to fluster than normal."

Chrom threw his hands into the air, "You know what? Forget it. I don't need your help, I'll go find her on my own," he then stormed off.

The tactician shook his head and sighed as he walked after his friend, "Hold up. I'll help."

* * *

After half an hour of searching, the two men were unable to find the pink haired dancer when the looming thoughts of the operation weaved back into their minds. They stood in the long hallway where the sun brightly shone through the high leveled windows and where bits of the outdoor heat warmed the cool, temperate castle.

Ian turned to his friend, "I don't think we have any more time to look for her now."

Chrom let out a long exhausted sigh and scratched the back of his head, "Where on earth could she be? We practically asked almost everyone around and still we couldn't find her."

"No clue," Ian shook his head as he looked at the sunlit windows. "But we need to head out, Gangrel won't be waiting on us for long. We'll miss our opportunity to attack if we don't move out soon."

"I know," the prince looked at the ground. "I just… wanted to talk to her one more time before we head out. I'm afraid this may be the last time I get to do that…" his right hand lightly held Falchion's grip.

Ian stared, "You know, you really do look lovestruck."

"That's not it," Chrom replied.

"You're not afraid you're going to die are you?" Ian asked, worried.

Chrom contemplated the question for a bit all the while shaking his head to himself, "Maybe," he looked up at his friend. "Everyone when they're young think they're invulnerable. But at some point that thought changes and it just hits you. What if I don't make it back and I never get to clear up that misunderstanding with Olivia? What will happen then?"

Ian gave a sheepish look, "Then I'll have to do mouth to mouth resuscitation with you to make sure you do get back up."

Chrom's somber look changed to weirded disgust, "Uh, no. No thank you. That won't be necessary," Ian shrugged.

"Well, a lot of things are going to happen today. And the two that I'm most certain about is Gangel's death and your survival, so don't worry," the tactician smiled.

The blue haired prince smirked, "Heh, guess so. I suppose I am being a little overly dramatic."

"A little bit is overstating it," Ian said with a chuckle. "Are you sure you're not lovestruck? It's a bloody desert out there, I could just go search for a giant red "X" in the middle of nowhere and find you a damn ring if you're so cheap to buy one yourself."

Chrom laughed, "No, again it's not that," he let out a breath as a determined look then entered his eyes. "C'mon, let's meet up with the others."

His friend nodded, "Right."

As the two began to head for the stairs, a shadow flicked in the very edge of Chrom's peripheral. He quickly turned around but saw only the flash of a closing door down one of the halls. A quick second before the door closed however, he could of sworn he saw a bit of pink hair.

Ian was already near the top of the staircase when he called after the distracted prince, "Hey, hurry up. We're burning sunlight."

Chrom continued staring at the closed door when thoughts of Olivia returned to him. He half-distractedly nodded in response, "Yeah… alright. I'm coming," Ian waited for Chrom to reach him at the top before the two made their way back to the Shepherd's sleeping quarters.

* * *

Chrom and Ian along with a couple of others were already waiting in the decently large, rectangular room when the rest of the Shepherds began to arrive. Everyone stood by the walls and created a circle as they stared at the prince expectantly, waiting for him to speak.

The young lord looked to his friend who in turn gave an encouraging nod back at him as he began to take a step forward; the already silent atmosphere became deafening. As he stepped forward, Chrom scanned the room at all the faces staring back at him. Though he had made a seemingly quick emotional recovery in the past few days, the memory of Emmeryn's death was still fresh in everyone's minds. They were cautious with what the young prince may do.

He stayed silent and continued to scan, doing several double-takes before he realized that he was subconsciously looking for a certain pink haired dancer.

He then realized that Olivia wasn't in the room.

Chrom let out a breath and closed his eyes for a quick second before he began to speak, "Here we are, everyone. The day we've all been preparing for has finally come. Today is the day we end Gangrel's reign," the Shepherds continued to stare as Chrom began to pace about the circle. "A couple days ago Exalt Emmeryn died during our attempt to rescue her from her attempted execution… and we ultimately failed. She died to protect her ideals of a better future between Ylisse and Plegia. She died to protect the people she loved the most. And she died… so I wouldn't have to live with the guilt of handing over the Fire Emblem."

He continued, "Emm was our exalt, our leader, a comforter, a friend…" he paused. "And she was the best damn older sister anyone could ever ask for," he looked over at Lissa and gave a kind smile as his younger sibling softly smiled back. He turned back to the group, "But not just Lissa and I, Emm was an older sister for us all. But when she died to protect each and every one of us, she also made the choice to protect the countless generations ahead of us should the need of the Fire Emblem ever arise."

Chrom stopped pacing and looked around the room, "I… know when Emm died, I acted in a way I shouldn't. Many people would understand the grief and loss of a sister, but that doesn't excuse the way I acted after that loss. And for that that I'm sorry," he gave out another large breath. "But she made that choice so I wouldn't have to. And even though my decision has already been made, the choice is still yours. To take the fight to Gangel or to leave. I will not force you in either direction," The room was quiet.

No one moved and there was an awkward air taking place. Chrom looked around the circle worriedly the longer the silence seemed to drag on. It was then broken when Ian loudly coughed into his hand.

"I guess I'm in."

Everyone turned to the tactician as he gave a shrug, "I spent a lot of bloody time on those plans. I'm not letting them go to waste. Plus I know you guys are just messing with him right now," he chuckled. "Hurry up, you guys. We don't have all day."

Chrom turned around and was surprised to find many of the Shepherds were chuckling as well.

Vaike laughed, "Well, guess the old charade couldn't last forever," he confidently pointed a thumb to his chest and grinned. "You can thank me later 'cause Teach is here and class is in session!"

"Yeah!" Nowi shouted, looking pumped. "I wouldn't even be here if not for you! We'll show those bad guys who's boss!"

"Hell yeah we will!" Sully showed a fist. "We spent all this damn time training in the desert, I want to smash some heads!"

Stahl nodded, "I'm ready. I will gladly give my life for House Ylisse!"

"It took great courage and charisma to unite us all. It would be an honor to follow a man who possessed such similar talents as myself!" Virion said as he gave a small bow.

"Were you unworthy, I would have left long ago," Lon'qu spoke from directly across the room with his arms crossed.

"Normally I'd do it for the candy, but I'd like to keep you alive and see if I can become your best man," Gaius smirked at the prince while Ian and Vaike gave suppressed chuckles. Chrom scowled.

"I'm in too!" Ricken said. "We all look up to you! You're like a hero to us."

"You can count me in!" Lissa brought both fists into the air with a determined look on her face. "I'm tired of crying all the time. It's time to start punchin' stuff!"

"Here here, darling! Our people have suffered enough," Maribelle smirked.

"Teaming up will ameliorate our chances of success. In other words, I am yours," Miriel adjusted her glasses.

Kellam's voice was a barely audible sound over the excited Shepherds, "Don't forget me! I'm with you too!" he glanced around. "You know in case anyone… um, hello?"

"Yeeeeeehaw!" Donnel whooped. "Let's do this!"

"How much you pay?" Gregor laughed. "Ha! It joke! Oh, how Gregor slap himself on the knee."

Tharja appeared by Ian's side, "You gave me your trust. And now you have mine," she smiled creepily at the tactician. "And you especially have mine," Ian flinched.

Panne nodded, "Your sister earned my respect. The last taguel shall champion her."

Sumia clapped her hands together, "Indeed! I will be your unbreakable shield!"

Chrom couldn't help but grin at each and every person in the room, "Thank you, everyone. Truly. I'm glad to know you'll all be by my side. Just... thank you."

Frederick smiled at the young prince, "You have grown strong, milord. I may have set a poor example as a knight, but I swear to you, I shall die before any more exalted blood is spilled!"

Cordelia stabbed her lance into the wooden flooring and loudly declared, "I will fight in the name of my fallen sisters and for you, milord!"

"And I will fight to avenge my fallen brothers and sisters," Libra said in an icy tone as he stood tall with his war axe placed firmly before him.

Chrom nodded when Flavia stepped forward with a confident grin, "Right! It's time for ol' Gangrel to get a dose of his own vulnerary. The whole of the Feroxi army is yours to send crashing against him."

Basilio laughed, "Har! You young folk. Your passion runs so hot! If I had any gray hairs, you would've singed 'em right off!" He slapped Chrom on the shoulder. "In other words, count me in!"

Chrom flinched by how hard Basilio seemed to have patted him on shoulder, muttering out a pained, "Thank you," when a quiet voice came from behind the khan.

"Um…"

Chrom's head perked up when he recognized Olivia's voice. He looked around Basilio's large form to find the dancer looking at the floor. The prince asked, surprised, "Olivia?"

Olivia looked up a bit until she found Frederick giving her a death glare from across the room, fuming but all the while saying nothing. She quickly looked away again. A second passed before she gave a nervous gulp and looked up at Chrom, doing her best to ignore the angry knight and instead focus only on the man before her. Her demeanour changed and she began to look more determined, "I… I wish to go too! The exalt did me a kindness once!"

"She did?" Chrom asked, curious.

"Y-yes, Chr-milord! Yes, milord. I was once allowed to perform in Ylisstol's grand theatre during one of my visits as part of a traveling theatre group. And it's because of her I now dream of building a theatre myself. It would honor me to have a part in giving her justice!" she trailed off. "Although all I can do is dance..."

Chrom smiled, "Your dancing will be enough. I'm... glad to have you along," he brought his hand forward for a handshake. Ian chuckled as he watched Vaike and Gaius quietly whoop beside him.

Olivia blushed as she looked at the gesture. She gingerly reached forward to grasp Chrom's hand until she heard Frederick growl in the background. She looked up to find the knight suddenly appear behind an oblivious Chrom, angrily glaring at her with almost demonic eyes as her face paled.

Frederick's sudden, towering appearance caused Olivia to jump and accidentally smack Chrom from the chin up and bash his nose in the process. Everyone in the room gasped and Chrom fell back, shock ridden on his face as he tumbled down, "Huh?" Frederick immediately caught the surprised prince before he hit the floor and then turned back up to find a trembling Olivia. His voice boomed.

"YOU!"

Olivia lost all color in her face before she immediately turned around and ran back down the hall with an angry Frederick and Sumia giving chase.

Everyone stared in bewildered disbelief at the sudden scene. Gaius and Vaike's fists were still hung up in the air while their mouths were gaping open in shock as everyone else. Ian had to mentally slap himself to snap him out of the confused trance before he walked up to Chrom and helped pick his friend up.

"What the hell just…?" Chrom began.

"I guess we now know why Olivia has been avoiding you this entire time I think," Ian vaguely theorized, a bit confused while he stared down the hall.

Chrom grunted as he got up, "C'mon, help me save her."

Ian sighed before he turned back to the Shepherds who were still standing around, "Uh… everyone head outside and get ready to march. We'll be leaving in about five minutes… I hope," he lamely trailed off before Chrom ran off.

"C'mon, Ian!" Chrom beckoned.

The tactician shook his head before he gave a sigh and took after his friend. Ian begrudgingly muttered under his breath, "You've got to be kidding me…"

* * *

Near mid-afternoon with the sun looming high above the Shepherds, temperatures, though still warm, seemed to lessen the closer they neared the Feroxi border.

An hour had passed since the Shepherds and the Feroxis separated to perform the two-pronged attack on the Plegian Army. The Shepherds moved to the west where Gangrel and his Honor Guard would be held up in a fortress resting, and the Feroxis would be moving east to destroy the main enemy force a mile or two on the outskirts of the border. The Shepherds opted to travel on foot this time and allowed the Feroxi Army to take the wagons to more easily carry out their dead and their wounded from the inevitable battle to come.

A two mile separation was not very far, especially for the Plegians who excelled at desert travel, and rarely did the two forces moved farther than three. If the main Plegian Army caught wind of an attack on their king's position, it wouldn't take them very long to move back and retaliate. Khan Flavia and Basilio's forces would not be far off to intercept and prevent such a move.

Similar to how the Shepherds first arrived in the desert country several days prior, everyone moved at a quick and motivated pace, vigilant, and ever ready to strike down the enemy.

At the front of the convoy were the three original spearheads when the Shepherds first arrived in Plegia, but as opposed to the original angry figure of solitude, Chrom marched alongside Ian and Frederick with an aura of confidence and determination.

Ian couldn't help but smirk when he looked at his friend, "Looks like this is it then."

Chrom nodded, "It is. We'll show Gangrel the meaning of defeat. There's no turning back now."

"We'll forever be by your side, milord," Frederick agreed before looking up into the sky. Ian and Chrom followed the man's gaze toward a shiny speck up above and Ian couldn't help but smile.

"What'd she say?"

Frederick turned toward the tactician and had a wondered look on his face, "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," Ian accused. "Man spends his entire morning working on shining a girl's armor and now that she is out and about, her armor is acting like a beacon of light in the middle of the day," he placed his hands behind his head. "It's almost poetic. Even I've never seen your armor glisten that much."

"So it was you, Frederick," Chrom smiled. "Never knew you to be such a closet romantic. It all makes sense now."

Frederick blushed for a quick second before he coughed into his hand, "Hmm, I never directly handed Sumia's armor back into her hands. I just simply set it back in its proper placement back in the armory."

Ian's and Chrom's faces fell, "So you didn't tell her?" the tactician asked.

"There is no need," Frederick shifted uncomfortably. "Her armor has been shined like everyone else's. There is no need for any explanation."

"Like everyone else's, hmm?" Chrom mused. "Are you sure? We can see her from miles around. She looks absolutely stunning. I'm actually kind of jealous of her right now."

Frederick paused, stuttering, "I… M-my apologizes, milord. I did not mean to neglect your-"

Chrom started laughing, "It's fine, Frederick. I meant nothing by it. She is an absolutely lucky girl to have you watch over her."

Frederick cleared his throat, "T-thank you, milord."

Ian started grinning. He looked ahead with his eyes still skyward, "You know, if we can see her from all the way back here, you think the Plegians can see her as well? Could give away our position."

"I've… not considered that," Frederick lamented.

Chrom smirked, "Well, nothing we can do about that now," he turned to Ian who grinned back and then to Frederick. "We'll let them know we're coming. She'll be our beacon in the sky. A message and a torch passing on Emm's light."

A look of pride began to swell up in Frederick's eyes when he looked up again. A smile broke out betraying his reluctant demeanour, "Thank you, milord. She'll be happy to hear you say that."

A sly smile crept along the blue haired prince's face, "Oh, I won't be the one telling her that," Frederick faced him. "That's your job."

The great knight hesitated for a bit before he slowly replied, "...Yes, milord," he turned back to focus on his horse as Ian gave Chrom a raised eyebrow while the prince chuckled.

After several minutes of walking and constantly snickering at Frederick whenever they caught him looking skywards toward the shining speck, Ian turned his head toward the back of the convoy and discreetly asked Chrom while Frederick was preoccupied, "You're not worried about bringing Olivia along?"

"Why should I be worried?" Chrom suddenly had a wary look on his face.

"You know," Ian cocked his head toward a distracted Frederick. "And, you know," he then tilted toward the horizon ahead.

Chrom quirked a brow, "What, Frederick? I think he's a little… too distracted at the moment," the two men chuckled before Chrom sobered down. "And as for Olivia… she's just like the rest of the Shepherds. I'm worried about all of their well-beings. She'll do her job, just like everyone else. I trust her."

Ian sighed, "That's not exactly what I meant," he switched his gaze to Frederick and then back to Chrom. "You two are not that much different, you know?"

"It's not like that," Chrom flatly responded.

Ian smirked, "Sure," Chrom slowly shook his head.

From up above the beating of wings began to sound. Ian and Chrom turned their heads toward the sky and found Sumia descending upon their position with Cordelia following behind. Frederick's normally stoic demeanour was broken once again as Ian found him staring mesmerized at the approaching pegasus knight. His lips parting slightly in awe.

Sumia's pegasus landed before the convoy and a cloud of dust erupted beneath the horse's hoofs, spreading out and forcing the three men to cover their faces from the flying sand. Once the haze quickly lifted, what emerged was a deftly heroic sight. Both Sumia and her armored plates beamed brightly upon the convoy as she skillfully swept her lance to the side, causing everyone to stop and stare in awe. She was the very image of a hero from legend. She gave an excited smile and proudly announced, "Gangrel's fort is just up ahead, Captain! There is a clearing nearby behind a hill north-west of here where we can set up a temporary camp and prepare for the assault," Ian couldn't help but notice to find Frederick grinning like an idiot.

Chrom nodded, "Good work, Sumia. You and Cordelia rest up for now, nice work on the scouting," he turned to the great knight. "Hey, Frederick. Go help Sumia rest for a bit, we'll take care of the camp for now."

"Gladly, milord," Frederick automatically responded, his eyes still focused on the shining pegasus knight, smiling. Sumia giggled as she stared back.

Ian turned to Chrom and the two men couldn't help but snicker. Ian shook his head and sent an unspoken message that said, "What the hell?"

Chrom silently replied, holding back his laughter, "I don't even know," Cordelia approached with an eyebrow raised. Ian pointed over his shoulder at the two knights as Frederick helped Sumia down from her pegasus. The both of them staring deeply into each other's eyes.

Cordelia smiled as the three of them began to walk away, "It's romantic, isn't it?"

Ian smirked, "Sure is."

"When do you think the wedding is going to be, you two?" Chrom asked.

"Can't be far off at this point," Ian shrugged. Cordelia froze up when she realized she was being directly spoken to by Chrom.

"A- um… Yes, perhaps," the redhead stuttered.

Chrom nodded, oblivious to Cordelia's blunder, "Cordelia, think you can show Ian where this clearing is? We'll need to be set up as soon as possible," he began to walk off.

"Yes, Captain," Cordelia quickly affirmed.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Ian asked.

Chrom looked back and answered over his shoulder, "I just need to talk to someone real quick. I'll meet with you two later."

Ian's face fell, "You can't be serious… You don't mean-?" he turned to find Cordelia staring intently after the walking prince. The tactician stared after Chrom and then back to Cordelia, sighing while he shook his head, "Come on, Cordelia. Show me where this clearing is."

Cordelia soon snapped out of her little trance and hastily turned around, "Oh, yes! On it! Right this way," she overtook Ian and quickly led him away.

* * *

"Looks like the tents we need are set. You know if things go terribly wrong we won't be able to immediately pack up and leave," Ian charted down on his list.

"That's assuming we'll lose," Cordelia teased.

"Oh, yeah. You're right. What was I thinking? How silly of me," Ian joked before he looked up from his list. "But… in all seriousness though, there is no guarantee everything is going to be smooth sailing."

"Then we'll just have to do the best we can," the redhead encouraged, looking determined. "I will give my life to see this mission through."

"Cordelia…" Ian softly spoke out.

"Huh? Yes, Ian?" Cordelia asked, looking surprised at Ian's sudden change in attitude.

"Don't say that," Ian said, becoming serious. He set the paper down on a table to the side. "Remember back when we had that talk? That talk about your old comrades before their passing?"

Cordelia remained silent, the thoughts of her talk with Ian a week before began to rush toward the front of her mind.

"They didn't give their lives so you could throw yours away. They gave it so you could survive. And that is exactly what you're going to do," Ian said. "Survive. No matter what happens. We've had people lose their closet friends in this group, we will not have any more repeats of that. No repeats for Frederick, Chrom, Lissa, Libra," he paused. "And most definitely no repeats for you. We're going to survive. And we're going to win."

Cordelia stood, looking stunned at Ian before she broke into a small giggle. Ian's previous fire wanned and he looked unsure, "What?"

She recovered before she kindly answered, "Oh, it's just that, wasn't I suppose to be the one to comfort you? You just contradicted your former skepticism so quickly. First it was, "There is no guarantee everything will go smooth sailing," to "We're all going to survive,"" she laughed. "Which one is it?"

Ian scrunched his face as he contemplated that last thought before he began to laugh, "Huh, guess you're right. Funny how things work out."

Cordelia smiled, "See? We'll win. Gangrel will be taken down."

"Right," Ian smirked, looking confident. "We got this."

The two stopped talking for a moment and just continued laughing to themselves, erasing the sudden nerves from before. Ian smiled at his friend when he saw a familiar blue haired prince walking toward them in the background. Cordelia noticed Ian's gaze and turned around, a blush appearing on her cheeks as she did so. A thought ran through Ian's head and he suddenly spoke up, "You know, no matter how determined we are, no matter how much we plan or what we do, there is always a possibility of something going wrong. It's wishful thinking on our part, we can't deny that. And so… Cordelia?" Cordelia broke her gaze away to look at the tactician as Ian gave her a soft smile. "There can never be any regrets. Never. No matter what happens."

Ian stopped as his gaze turned back to a fast approaching Chrom. Cordelia followed, and Ian spoke up again, "No regrets."

Cordelia's body locked up, a look of incredible nervousness was etched upon her figures when Chrom finally stood before her and Ian. Chrom's smile disappeared as he looked at the quivering pegasus knight and worriedly asked, "Cordelia? Are you alright?"

Cordelia's lips quivered as she tried to find the words to say. Her cheeks turned to a deep crimson while Ian stood by, the man silently hoping for the young knight to muster up the courage to speak.

She looked like she was on the brink of tears before she turned her head and walked away. Ian looked after Cordelia's retreating figure while he silently cursed to himself, shaking his head before he turned to Chrom.

Chrom turned to Ian and asked, "What was that all about?"

Ian continued to shake his head before he eventually answered, "Nothing," he looked up. "So, everything is all set. You ready to go?"

Chrom nodded, "Yeah. Let's do this," but before the two could make their way to the rest of the Shepherds, Frederick appeared from the side of one of the tents and quickly walked to where the two men were.

He placed both hands behind the small of his back before he spoke, "Milord, I've a report from Khan Flavia."

"What is it?" Chrom asked.

"The Plegian Army is in disarray," the great knight answered.

"What?" Chrom started, dumbstruck. "How do you mean?"

"It seems many of their soldiers are opposed to further violence. There has been infighting and desertion," Frederick continued. "A number of their high ranking officers tried to stamp out the mutiny by force, but with little success. They are currently under watch by the Feroxian Army at the moment."

Shock was evident all over Chrom's face, "This is incredible news! But… why?" Ian turned to Chrom and the prince met his gaze. Chrom's look tilted downwards and he quietly muttered, "...Emmeryn."

"Yes, milord. Emmeryn," Frederick agreed. "The report says Gangrel's men chanted her name as they laid down their arms. Her words, and her sacrifice, have made her a folk hero of sorts."

"Sister…" Chrom muttered. "Why did it take me so long to understand? She believed all people desire peace. She knew, deep down, that the Plegians wanted it too… It just took her death to bring it to the surface."

"Chrom…" Ian whispered.

Chrom breathed in deeply while he clenched his fists, "I hope she can see this, wherever she is…"

"I'm willing to bet she is," Ian said.

Chrom nodded as he motioned for the two men to follow him, "That's it, we're going. C'mon you two. Today is the day we put an end to Mad King Gangrel and bring peace back to the land."

"Got it," Ian responded.

"Aye, milord," Frederick did the same.

* * *

The winds began to pick up speed causing dust and sand to foster in the air. Heatwaves simmered above the sandy floor, blurring both Ylisse's small, proud army and the remaining few of the Plegian king's loyal defenders.

Ian marched alongside Chrom as he surveyed the battlefield. The Shepherds and their cavalry stood side by side with Miriel, Ricken, Tharja and Virion providing long ranged support. Lissa was at the rear of the group with her staff at the ready, Maribelle's horse traced its hoofs in the sand ready to charge.

Ian looked to the side and off in the distance found the proud figure of Olivia standing upon a large rocky cliff overlooking the battlefield. The tactician tapped Chrom on the shoulder to have the prince look as well and the blue haired youth smiled. Olivia was already beginning her routine to motivate the Shepherd's down below as she moved with the wind, her movements representing the fire and determination of the famous Ylissean group. Gaius stood nearby her but out of her line of sight as ordered by Ian to ensure Olivia's protection.

Gangrel and his army stood on the far side of the field outside the doors of the fortified compound with several mages and archers standing by the Mad King's side. The rest of the floor was filled with the king's elite few of cavalier, swordsmen, lances, axe specialists, and wyvern riders. All of them wearing imposing uniforms of red and gold lining. A miniature army of similar make to the Shepherd's own.

There was a large banner drooping across the fortress's wooden doors with strange letterings in bright red written across it. Chrom turned to Ian when he saw it, "Ian, what does it say?"

Ian squinted his eyes so he could make out the letters and quirked an eyebrow when he finished and turned to Chrom with a frown, "It says… "Up yours"..."

Chrom's face fell a bit as he looked back at the banner and scratched the back of his head as he comically let out a surprised, "Huh…"

Chrom snapped himself out of his sense of déjà vu and stepped forward with Falchion in his hand and yelled, "Gangrel! Today marks the end of your reign! Surrender now or meet the end of my blade!"

The Mad King spat, "Surrender? You trespass upon my territory and demand that I surrender? Pah! Hypocrisy from each and every one of you! Murderers! Rapists! Thieves! Traitors! Wretches! Terrorists! All of you! You will all die today for your damnable transgressions!" he pulled out his sword and roared. "Attack! Slaughter them all!"

Chrom raised his own blade and screamed, "Shepherds! Forward! Attack!"

Fireballs rained from the sky and both sides dashed through the sands, screaming war cries as they rushed to meet the enemy.

The cavalier from both sides of the fight sprinted ahead of their comrades, the horses fearless when the fiery artillery smashed against the ground. The highly trained Plegian riders shifted through the sands as if they were paved roads, equipping throwing axes and launching them forward before they made contact with the Ylissean cavalier. Frederick ordered Sully and Stahl to bring up their shields as the axes fell and bashed against their metal. They brought their shields down when the Plegians quickly fell upon them.

What the three Shepherds lacked in offensive capabilities, they made up for in defense. Stabbing back with their lances and acting as moving iron walls against the faster but lightly armored cavalry. But even then they were quickly gaining cuts and injuries from the ferocity of the desert riders. Their horses having a harder time competing against their Plegian counterparts as they stumbled through the sand.

But from above came the whine and roar of Cordelia and Sumia's pegasus and Nowi's dragon form as they began their attack run. Sumia's blinding armor distracted a couple of the riders as she and Cordelia swooped down, their lances easily penetrating the lightly armored riders. Nowi came afterwards, shooting off balls of energy from her jaws that acted as powerful aerial barrages when they made contact with the ground.

Frederick, Sully, and Stahl were able to break free from their suppressed position and move onto the offensive, retaliating against the enemy cavalier as some of them disintegrated under the manakete's fire.

Cordelia, Sumia, and Nowi pulled up from their quick pass when the enemy wyvern riders finally reached the center of the field and fought to regain aerial supremacy.

The pegasus riders and manakete quickly broke off as the wyvern gave pursuit. Cordelia and Sumia pressing their speed advantage against the slightly slower but sturdier wyvern.

But just like their comrades had used on the ground, the Plegian riders pulled out throwing axes and aimed to snipe down their prey. The Wyvern Honor Guard were master marksmen with their weapons and scored several staggering hits against Cordelia and Sumia's pegasus, causing them to cry out in pain as they began to slow down.

One of the riders were hot on Cordelia's tail, unrelenting in his pursuit as he aimed his weapon ahead of the pegasus knight in order to time his attack. Cordelia swore and suddenly pulled back on the reins of her pegasus, the beast complaining as its wings spread out against the wind, catching it and slowing the pegasus down and causing them to flip behind the wyvern.

Cordelia screamed at the height of her sudden maneuver and plunged her lance into the back of the surprised Plegian. She pulled out her weapon and turned around, finishing the attack as her pegasus bucked the Plegian in the face and knocked him off his saddle before he plummeted to the earth. The wyvern screamed and charged at Cordelia before she lunged once again and stabbed her lance into the beast's eye. She dug the weapon around in the wyvern's socket and forcefully pulled it out. The wyvern became limp and fell as well.

After she caught her breath, Cordelia turned around to see two more riders performing hit and run tactics on Nowi, the manakete yelling in frustration as she shot in every which direction.

Cordelia rushed forward to help her comrade, yelling when she saw one of the riders coming from behind with a lance in hand. Nowi roared and quickly spun around, using her tail to smash both the rider and his mount. The two then plummeted to the earth.

The rider's wingman yelled and suddenly dived down to save his partner, catching him at the last second before placing him on the floor. The wyvern of the injured Plegian crashed into the ground and was killed instantly.

The wingman launched back into the sky with a sudden blinding speed and smashed his wyvern's tail into a surprised Cordelia's before ricocheting and beelining straight for Nowi.

The manakete yelled in surprise and tried to cover herself when the Plegian quickly threw multiple axes at her, scoring several direct hits. She opened her eyes and found the rider suddenly jumping off his mount and flying straight at her with an axe in hand.

He grabbed her by the neck and hung there as he viciously hacked away at her face.

Cordelia recovered from the whiplash and looked up to see Nowi shrieking in pain. The sound was so piercing that almost everyone on the battlefield were forced to cover their ears. The rider kept hacking and screaming before Nowi opened her mouth and there was a burst of light. The two exploded and the Plegian fell as his body slowly disintegrated away into small, colorful fragments.

Smoke embellished every part of the dragon child's body as she reverted back to her human form. Cordelia yelled the girl's name as she pushed her pegasus to its limits and pulled down for a steep dive, catching Nowi at the last second before she hit the ground.

Back in the air, Cordelia held Nowi in her arms and frantically called out to the girl, "Nowi! Nowi, are you alright?"

A large cut was seen atop the manakete's forehead and blood soaked most of her face, "Ooww…" she moaned.

Cordelia looked around the immediate area and then found Lissa back on the ground healing the injured from the sidelines. She tightened her grip on Nowi's body, "Hold on, I'm going to get you healed."

"But what about Sumia?" Nowi asked.

Cordelia looked up to find Sumia being chased by another wyvern rider, dodging the man's attacks before she pulled her pegasus into a climb. The two combatants kept climbing and climbing until the only thing a person could see was the glimmer of Sumia's armor.

* * *

Sumia's breathing became ragged at the lack of oxygen, her vision began to fade and she thought she saw a black object connected with chains fly right by her. The sun shone in her eyes and she took one more desperate breath before her pegasus turned around and began to plummet towards the earth. The light bounced off her armor and through her hazed vision saw that the Plegian rider became blinded by it.

The young woman gripped her lance before she plunged the spear through the man's chest. Wind rushed through Sumia's hair and ears while she fell, watching as time began to slow and the man's body became limp. She followed him the rest of the way as blood flowed from the rider's mouth like a crimson ribbon. She then pulled up near the end of the dive and tried to look away when the man's body speared itself into the ground. His arms and legs spread out in a star shape.

* * *

Cordelia and Nowi watched from a distance as Sumia slowly descended toward the ground to retrieve her weapon before Cordelia gave a relieved smile and said, "I think she has everything handled," Nowi nodded before a green explosion appeared in the sky not too far from them.

The manakete opened her mouth in awe, "Whoa…"

Cordelia understood the signal before she turned her pegasus around and began to make their way to Lissa, "C'mon, let's go," but not a couple seconds later, a shriek and a yell was heard from behind. Cordelia turned around and her eyes widened when she saw the rider that was knocked off his mount by Nowi riding his wingman's wyvern and rushing at them in a blind rage.

The rider threw out several bolas at Cordelia's pegasus as several of them caught onto the beast's feathered wings, slowing them down considerably.

Before she could react, the wyvern was on top of them and the rider screamed, flipping his buddy's mount over the front as its tail smashed down onto Cordelia, Nowi, and the pegasus. Cordelia lost her grip and all three began to fall, and by the time she hit the ground she had already blacked out.

* * *

Back on the ground the fighting continued to intensify. Artillery from both sides scorched the earth and left multiple craters all around. Ian and Chrom fought side by side with their swords in hand, and though they were able to take down a couple fighters, the Honor Guard fought on with a zealous ferocity not seen by any other previous force.

Dust and sand were being kicked up by the amount of fireballs hitting the ground, and as much as he wanted to beat the Plegians in their game of artillery, Ian was beginning to regret having the Shepherd's mages contribute to the downpour.

There was nothing but sand and dust in the air. Sand automatically stuck to Ian's body and clothing. It was a whirlstorm. Ian was blind and none of them could see anything.

"Above!" Chrom shouted before he and Ian quickly split off as a ball of flames landed on their former position.

"Which side did that come from!" Ian yelled as they regrouped, the dust clouds grew bigger and bigger, causing any form of vision to quickly diminish.

"I think it was one of ours? What does it matter!" Chrom asked before the silhouette of a swordsman jumped out of the clouds and brought his blade down. Chrom pulled Falchion up and blocked the attack with one hand on his sword's grip and the other near the end of the blade.

He kept backing up and tried his best to block the attacks from the energetic myrmidon before Ian ran in and brought his sword down in a hand handed swing. The Plegian blocked the attack and then Chrom stabbed him in the gut in the man's distraction.

The man fell and there was another volley of artillery hitting their position, "Gods damn it, Chrom! We need to get out of here! C'mon, let's move!" Ian yelled.

"Right behind you!" the prince responded.

All around them they heard the sounds of weapons clashing and people yelling. The battlefield became a disorientating place as the dust continued to enclose in on their position. Soon even coughing was heard amongst the fighting.

"Holy hell!" Ian screamed. "Where the hell is everybody!"

"Ian! Where are you!" Chrom's voice yelled off in the distance before Ian heard a grunt and the sound of the blue haired prince entering another fight.

"Chrom? Chrom! Where the hell are you?" the tactician shouted out before he heard someone give out a terrible shriek. Ian immediately felt the pain ringing in his eardrums when he was forced to kneel and cover them to block the bloodcurdling screams. After the shrieking stopped, Ian looked around the hazed field to hear the sounds of fighting commence and artillery fall. He quickly reached into his coat pockets and pulled out his fire tome and a small pouch containing a brown powder. His hands shook as he poured the powder all over his right hand and then wiped his left on one of the pages of the tome, combining the fire and the powder together to create a green flame.

He flinched back at the small green combustion in his hand before he shot the flare into the sky. An emerald explosion appeared high above like a firework that painted the sand in the exact same color. Ian had a relieved smile on his face when he heard some of the explosions on the ground stop. But the feeling quickly disappeared when he heard a whistle from above and he instinctively jumped away when the explosion hit.

"Son of a-! I freakin' forgot the Plegians don't give a crap about my signals!" Ian yelled to himself before he pulled out his wind tome and tore through the pages. He heard one of the Shepherds yell in the background and it edged the tactician on. He found the page he was looking for and immediately took his stance, placing both hands above his head and yelled.

Torrents of wind flew from Ian's palms as he swiped the air in front of him, blowing most of the dust away and showing the clear blue sky.

Ian looked around and saw many of his friends locked in combat, both Shepherd and Plegian Honor Guard giving their all in the fight. He prepared to go and help Chrom fighting off multiple enemies in the distance when he heard a wyvern giving a shrilling shriek. His eyes widened in fear when he saw Cordelia carrying Nowi take a devastating hit from above; the red haired pegasus knight gave no resistance as she fell and her body disappeared behind a hillside.

Ian was just about to cry out Cordelia's name when he heard another whistle come from above. He had no time to think when the fireball hit the floor a couple feet away, throwing both sand and Ian's body to the side. The sound of fighting echoed all around the tactician when he closed his eyes and darkness engulfed him.

* * *

Libra moved on the battlefield like a demon, a description that contradicted the blonde haired man's status.

He swung his axe around in a brutal fury, smashing and instantly destroying any defenses his enemies attempted to put up.

One of the enemy lances ran up to the war monk and lunged with his spear forward. Libra blocked the attack with the flat of his axe and the guard flew overhead, landing on his feet before he charged again. The guard went in for a low lunge before Libra gripped the handle of his axe with both hands and swung to the side, smashing the man's face in before he violently flew to the side.

A swordsman came from the rear and tried to bring his blade down on the priest's head. Libra spun around and swung his axe, cutting the man at his elbow. The myrmidon flew to the side and screamed before Libra slowly walked over to him and brought his axe above his head. He softly whispered, "Rest in peace," and the axe came crashing down.

Libra breathed in heavily for several moments while the battle raged all around him. The dust clouds were a dividing force, no one was together. It was all small separate battles engulfed in a much larger one.

Libra bent down to pull his axe out of the myrmidon's body when he saw the ground before him glow the color green. He looked up and found a green fireball exploding into the air, and the battlefield for a moment became quiet. It was only a second later before the fiery artillery came crashing down once more.

The war monk began to make his way to move before a gust of wind caught his robes. Dust and sand rushed past his body and his clothes violently whipped with the currents. Libra covered his eyes with his arms and he grunted as he struggled against the sudden wind. His arms finally lowered when the wind stopped and the battlefield for the first time in several minutes became clear.

He looked up and saw Ian with a wide stance with his arms spread outward. The tactician recovered and began to survey the battlefield, Libra looked around as well until he found the figure of a woman on horseback heading in his direction. She yelled out his name.

"Libra!"

"Maribelle!" the war monk gasped. "You're alright!"

"Of course I'm alright! We cannot afford to lose a healer in this fight!" the noblewoman loudly replied.

Libra opened his mouth to respond when a angry shriek was heard from above. He looked up and found the pegasus of a red haired knight get pummeled by the tail of an enemy wyvern before it fell to the earth. With it fell the bodies of the rider and the body of the manakete child.

Libra locked his eyes on the falling pegasus knight and Ian's words from a couple nights ago echoed in his mind, "_Her name is Cordelia, pegasus knight, red hair, genius… the two of you can have a bit to talk about if you ever need someone to relate to." _

"Red hair…" Libra whispered. He motioned for Maribelle to follow before he bolted off, "Come! We must save her!"

"Very well! Lead the way, sir!" Libra sprinted off and Maribelle made to follow, but then a fireball hit the ground a few feet in front of the noblewoman's horse and kicked sand into the air. The horse reeled back, "Libra, wait!"

Libra couldn't hear over the sound of constant explosions and continued running. Maribelle attempted to follow again when an explosion sounded nearby and someone screamed. A hardcover tome then suddenly flew out and hit Maribelle right in the face.

The force of the flying object knocked Maribelle off her saddle and she landed in the sand. She groaned as she rubbed her head before she realized her placement on the ground. She quickly got up and tried to dust the sand off her blouse before she spotted the green tome in the sand. Maribelle walked over to pick it up and her eyes wandered over the cover before recognition set in.

"Why, this belongs to-"

The sound of Libra's voice cut over the sound of the explosions and fighting, "Maribelle! I require assistance over here!"

Maribelle snapped out of her thoughts before she rushed over to her horse and placed the book to her chest, whipping the steed as they followed the sound of Libra's voice.

* * *

Cordelia's body laid out on the ground in a crumpled mess, her hair covered her face and blood leaked from the bottom corner of her mouth. Libra placed a glowing green hand over her chest and was relieved to find that she was still alive.

Before he could take out his staff to heal the unconscious pegasus knight, a high pitched scream broke out followed by the roar of a wyvern. Libra recognized the voice and ran over to the source of the screams.

Around the hillside, Nowi was seen backing away from a creeping wyvern and its rider, the manakete yelling out frightened insults as her hands actively searched the ground for her stone, "S-stay back you big bully! Once I get my stone back I'll bash your stupid face in!" the wyvern screamed and charged forward, its rider gripping his lance as he prepared to bring it down in a stabbing motion. Nowi cried.

Libra then ran forward and caught all three members of the scene off guard when he jumped over Nowi's trembling body and smashed his axe into the side of the wyvern's face.

The head of the beast recoiled as a large red gash cut across the wyvern's eye. The wyvern screamed for a split second before it ricocheted its head back and smacked a running Libra in the stomach before he could land another hit.

Libra was shoved back and looked up to find that the wyvern had already taken up flight once again.

The rider had a fiery look in his eyes when he glared at the war monk below. He gripped the reins of his mount with one hand and yanked on the rope to one side and then forcefully brought it to the other. This continued motion in turn caused the wyvern to flap its wings in an exaggerated manner, pushing more sand and wind in Libra's direction than it had before.

The sandy grains quickly flew into Libra's mouth and he found the powerful gusts of wind making it harder for him to breath. The priest fell forward and began to choke.

The rider brought his lance back and prepared to throw, launching his hand forward as Libra closed his eyes.

A sudden gust of wind flew into the wyvern and its rider, forcing the man to pause and instead hold onto his weapon even tighter. The two looked around in surprise and another bolt came from a distance, the force knocked the rider off his mount and threw him away. Maribelle then rode up with her horse and forced the wyvern against the ground with a wind tome in her hand. The beast began to snap its jaws at her in frustration when it became stuck in the sand.

Maribelle looked back at Libra and yelled at him to stand back up, "Move, Libra! I can't hold the beast for long!"

Libra stumbled forward before he nodded, "Right!" and ran forward with his axe by his side and gripped the weapon in a power swing. He gave an intense warcry and brought the weapon down in a ground shattering attack. The axe dug deep into the wyvern's skull and it screamed in agony. Maribelle released her hold on the bastard dragon and brought her hand down in a swift movement, the wind spell adding to Libra's hand and shoving the axe all the way through the lizard's skull. There was a loud crunch and the wyvern was dead.

The two breathed heavily for a moment as they tried to regain their breaths. Libra looked at Maribelle and Maribelle stared back, nodding their heads in acknowledgement toward one another while their heartbeats began to slow.

A moan broke the relative silence and the two turned their heads. Libra then realized who it was and immediately grabbed his war axe. He walked toward the source of the sounds and Maribelle followed suit. It was then several feet away they found the rocking body of the rider they had just fought.

The man's helmet was blown away and instead on his head was a mop of disheveled blonde hair. The man had piercing blue eyes as he clenched his teeth and held his wound at his side. The lance he held before had accidentally punctured his gut when he was blown away.

Libra stared down on the Plegian rider in pity before a thought ran through his mind about how very much alike he looked like a friend he once knew.

The war monk stepped forward.

The rider continued to grunt in pain, his hands became painted red and he gave a defiant glare back at the priest. Maribelle watched in the background at what Libra was about to do.

Libra pulled out his healing staff and placed the tip of the orb onto the man's wound as it glowed green.

The priest apologized, "I'm sorry it had to come to this. May you find sanctuary in Naga's embrace."

The man's eyes widened when the axe came down, smashing his collarbone and cutting his body diagonally all the way through. The blonde haired man gave his last gasp and his body became limp, blood seeped from his body and he quickly died.

Maribelle rode up to Libra and watched as he held his staff into the air and let out its green glow. There was a spark and the light slowly glistened in the air before fading away. The priest then whispered before putting his staff away, "The heavens are above. May the light guide you the way."

Maribelle called out her friend's name, "Libra…"

Libra put his staff back on his back and motioned for the noblewoman to follow, "Come, we need to find Nowi and Cordelia and bring them to safety."

Maribelle continued watching for a moment before she nodded in agreement, "Right. We mustn't tarry," Libra nodded back and the two ran off. A couple moments later the two injured bodies of Nowi the manakete and Cordelia the pegasus knight were taken back to the sidelines and retired from the current field of battle.

* * *

Sand kicked up into the air from a nearby explosion just as Chrom sprinted forward and ran an Honor Guard through, screaming the entire way.

When the dust and clouds had disappeared, fighting on Chrom's part became a lot easier due to his increase in vision. But on the flip side, it also became much easier for the enemy as they could finally see. Artillery fire from the Shepherd's mages had stopped and opted to move forward to provide closer, more controlled support.

Unfortunately the enemy had no such plans.

Fireballs continued to rain from the sky, albeit at a decreased frequency. But because of the now clear view of the battlefield, the mage's shots became much more precise, almost landing direct hits if the Shepherds weren't so diligent in watching their own heads and the heads of their comrades.

No one was nearby to watch and protect Chrom's head however.

A man ran from behind Chrom and opted to take the prince down in a quick and clean kill. Chrom turned and the assassin cursed, jumping forward before the prince immediately brought Falchion up out of instinct just before the assassin's twin daggers attempted to dig into his face.

Chrom used the momentum of the Plegian's jump and threw him over his back. The assassin landed on his feet and rushed forward again. Chrom ran forward as well and the assassin slashed against's Chrom underside before the attack was blocked. The man quickly spun and slashed Chrom's thigh on the second attempt.

Chrom snarled as he fell to one knee and was immediately kicked to the side of the face and the prince fell to the side. Chrom was lying on his back with his head tilted before a familiar voice called out his name. He opened his eyes and saw Olivia on the hill staring back at him. He then turned his head and his eyes widened at the sight of the assassin straddling him with daggers falling straight for his face.

The prince's hands shot up and caught the Plegian's wrists as they began to struggle for dominance. Chrom yelled when he pushed back with all of his might, forcing the man's hand to the side before Chrom suddenly sat forward and bashed the assassin in the nose with his forehead.

There was a subtle sound of a nose breaking and the assassin fell backwards. Chrom then leapt forward and pounced on the man, bringing his fists down in a rapid fury and feeling the bones of the man's skull crumble with each blow.

The man laid unconscious on the ground and Chrom went to grab his sword, leaving the body of the Plegian behind before running off to find Ian.

Not long after, he found the body of his best friend lying amidst the fire and chaos several meters away.

Another fireball fell near Ian's body and kicked up sand over the tactician. Chrom screamed his friend's name and sprinted forward before an extremely large axeman caught wind of Chrom's attempt and planted himself directly in front of his path.

Rage engulfed the young prince and he roared, rushing forward, "Get the hell out my way you bastard!" The sound of the giant fighter was lost when a sharp and distinct whistle came from above. Chrom looked up and felt shock waves ripple through his body as he was thrown back.

Every part of his body felt numb. Chrom laid on the floor momentarily paralyzed and watched as the large figure of the Plegian axeman approached while bouncing his weapon in hand.

The man smashed his large foot against Chrom's chest and knocked the wind out of the young man's lungs.

Chrom gave a strangled yell and tried to grab the Plegian's boot, pushing with all of his might to get the large giant off of him.

The man laughed at the sight of Chrom's struggle before he hefted his axe into the air and said, "Goodnight, sweet prince," Chrom screamed.

Just before the axe fell, a lone figure ran into the scene yelling as they shoved a sword into the axeman's gut and forcing him to drop his weapon in the process.

The large Plegian screamed and stumbled back with a steel sword sticking out of his abdomen. Chrom turned to face his saviour and was shocked to find Olivia standing next to him. He opened his mouth to voice his surprise just when the axeman gave a mighty roar.

Chrom turned back and his eyes widened at the sight of the Plegian pulling the sword out of his stomach just like he would a sheath. The large man roared again and rushed forward to Olivia before she fell back and covered her face screaming.

Chrom suddenly got up to one knee and with all of his might punched the brute in his wound just before he passed.

The man fell forward and on top of Chrom. The undying juggernaut screamed in both pain and rage, grasping Chrom's neck with both hands and bashing his head against the ground.

Chrom yelled to Olivia in between gasps and grunts, "Help! Rah! Olivia! Get this heavy- ragh! Heavy bastard off me!"

Olivia looked back in chocked confusion before she quickly nodded and got up, "R-right!"

"Hurry!" Chrom pleaded.

Olivia frantically searched the immediate area and found Falchion half covered in sand. She grabbed the royal blade and ran over to the struggling forms of Chrom and the brute as she brought the sharp sword into the air.

Chrom yelled before the sword fell, "Olivia, wait! Falchion is not going to work when you use it!"

The sword hit the Plegian in the back of the head and there was nothing but the sound of a large crack.

Olivia's mouth fell open in shocked surprised at Falchion's sudden dull blade, "What! Why didn't it cut?"

"Because Falchion doesn't-!"

The large man roared and jumped forward, Olivia screamed and brought the blade down once again, bashing the man in the head.

Olivia closed her eyes and kept swinging and swinging against the approaching axeman's skull and Chrom's mouth fell open in horror at what he was witnessing. Because no matter how hard she hit, not a single cut was seen on top of the man's head.

But there was a sound of crushing bone.

The dancer continued her panicked attack until the juggernaut finally collapsed, his skull bashed in bleeding and his body dead.

Nothing sounded but fighting in the background.

Chrom's face still held shocked horror even after the body of the giant axeman had fallen and pressed itself firmly against Chrom's chest.

Olivia's face also held the same shocked expression and nervously asked, "D-did I do it right?"

Chrom turned to the dead man on top off him and back to Olivia, rapidly switching back and forth before stuttering, "What just? Did you just? Falchion?" he looked like he was gasping for words. "You just bashed him in the head _with _Falchion!"

"It didn't cut…" Olivia lamely responded.

The shocked expression still held on Chrom's face a little longer before he finally realized the dead body on him. He turned back to Olivia, "Um… you think you can help me out here?"

Olivia quickly nodded, "Oh! Right!" she then walked over to the body and pulled on the arm with all her might. Chrom grunted as he pushed.

Once the body was taken off of Chrom's, both he and Olivia gave exhausted breaths. Chrom stood back up and he looked at Olivia before giving out another large exhale and nodded, "Thanks."

Olivia did likewise, "You're welcome," the two just stood there and stared at one another while the battle continued to rage.

Realization hit Chrom and he asked, "Hey, where's Gaius?"

"Uh…" Olivia started. "He went to tell Ricken and the others to stop the barrage when the dust clouds got too thick."

"Huh…" Chrom let out.

A scream broke the bubble between the two and they looked up to see Lon'qu puncturing his blade through a man's gut and dropping him to the floor. Chrom turned back to Olivia and motioned to the sword in her hand.

"Hey, uh, mind if I can have that back?"

Olivia blushed, "Oh, yes! Yes, of course. Er… here you go," she held Falchion upside down by the hilt and gingerly passed the weapon over.

Chrom took the sword and inspected the blade before looking back at Olivia and gave a nod, "Thanks."

Olivia nodded back, "Mmhmm."

The sound of a galloping horse approached and Frederick yelled over the fighting, "Milord!"

Chrom and Olivia turned to the approaching knight and Chrom asked, "Frederick?"

Frederick came to a halt in front of the two and avidly spoke up, "Milord! I saw you fighting by yourself and I tried to come to your aid as fast as I could. This is the second time I have failed you! Are you alright?" a worried wrinkle formed on his forehead.

"I'm alright, don't worry, Frederick," Chrom tilted his head in Olivia's direction. "Olivia here just saved me from getting my head split in two," Olivia stared at Chrom.

"Milord... she?" Frederick looked surprised as he turned to the pink haired dancer that slapped and hurt his lord.

"Yes, Frederick," Chrom confirmed. "She saved my life and I owe her my own for that," he then had a threatening look on his face. "So if I ever see you trying to hurt her, I will be forced to retaliate."

Frederick was taken aback, "Milord?"

"Chrom, that won't be necessary. Please don't make it more than it has to be," Olivia tried to calm the prince down.

Chrom nodded before smirking at his long time friend on horseback, "I know. Just wanted to clear a few things up," he walked past Frederick and placed Falchion on his shoulders. "Now, what do you say you two? Ready to get Ian back on his feet and end this whole ordeal?"

Frederick looked at Olivia and Olivia looked back, confusion written on both their faces. They both turned to Chrom and Frederick spoke up, "Milord, Ian is already…"

* * *

Screams and the clashing of metal ringed in Ian's ears when he finally regained consciousness. He cursed as he opened his eyes and felt a tingling sensation all over his body, "Ugh, son of a…"

Very soon the sounds of fighting finally registered in his head and he bolted back to his feet and tried to look for his sword.

"_Sword! My sword! Where the hell is my sword!"_

Ian frantically searched his immediate area before he found his sword sticking in the ground a distance away. He ran forward a couple of feet for the blade before a myrmidon walked forward and firmly placed himself between the tactician and the sword.

Ian stopped and stared, cursing before he pulled out his fire tome and opened it up, "Want to play it like that, huh? Well then-" he started before the myrmidon broke into a full charge, sprinting and moving faster than the tactician could anticipate.

"Oh crap!"

The swordsman was instantly upon Ian, swinging his blade at a blinding speed. Ian kept backpedaling and tried to throw his fireballs down in the close proximity, missing every single shot in his panic before the myrmidon brought his sword into the air.

Ian's eyes widened when the sword came down and instantly brought his tome up as a makeshift shield.

The sword caught itself inside the tome's pages and cut the spine. The blade sliced Ian's hand when it fell and threw the book to the side. Ian loudly cursed in pain at the amount of blood leaking from his hand and the realization that he was out of weapons.

He was then immediately backhanded and Ian stumbled to the ground. The Plegian brought his sword down in a one handed swing and Ian quickly rolled away. He jumped back to his feet and the myrmidon swung again to the side.

It was then instinct took ahold of Ian and he grabbed the swordsman's arm with his left hand and palmed the myrmidon's nose with the other. His right leg at the exact same moment his fist made contact, wrapped around the Plegian's leg and pulled, performing a leg sweep.

Using the Plegian's weight against him, Ian shoved with all of his might and accelerated the man's fall to the ground. Ian grabbed the man's neck with his one hand and began to choke him just as he brought his fist down and broke the man's nose.

He did two more punches and the swordsman quickly lost consciousness. Ian was about to have a moment to rest before he heard someone give off a warcry and the Plegian's comrade came running in with his axe swinging.

Ian jumped back and curved his body as the axe sweeped at the air mere inches away from his torso. The axeman swung and missed and Ian stepped forward before grabbing the staff and headbutting him in the face.

The Plegian let go and Ian shoved the butt end of the grip into the man's stomach and knocked the wind out of him. Ian then brought the axe into the air with both hands and brought it crashing down on his opponent's head.

Another soldier ran up with twin daggers in his hands and swung with his right blade forward. Ian caught his arm and threw him to the ground before snapping the man's neck with his foot.

Ian bolted forward toward another enemy soldier while taking his purple coat off in the process. The Plegian turned around and Ian wrapped his coat around the man's face in the run by and forced him to the ground.

With the coat still around the man's face, one could only see his mouth sucking for air before Ian slammed his fist down and silenced the gagging noise.

Putting his coat back on, Ian felt a familiarity and a sense of nostalgia as he ran around the battlefield unarmed. Similar to the way right before he discovered his ability to read Plegian, fighting without a weapon was just as natural as fighting with one. He moved about with both speed and agility.

Just as a soldier jabbed his spear forward to keep his distance away from the quick paced tactician, Ian slid to the ground and swiped his feet under the Plegian's legs. The man fell over and Ian punched him in the throat.

As he stood back up, Ian looked at his shaking hands and almost began to tremble with excitement. He had never fought unarmed before, he had always had his sword or tome with him when he fought or trained. Why did this come so naturally to him?

Ian turned around and found an axeman charging at him just like a bull.

The tactician then jumped out at the last second and watched as the fighter passed him by. Ian sprinted forward and leapt as he landed a hard kick to the man's face when he turned around. He swung his axe down and Ian jumped back; a whistle fell from the sky and exploded right between the two men.

Sand kicked up into the air and Ian took his chance, sprinting right through the dust and weaving low as his punch was aimed at the man's gut. His fist shot through and was shocked to find it entering the man's stomach.

He felt blood and intestines between his fingers before Ian pulled his hand out and jumped back in horror. The fighter let out a weak gasp and fell back, blood leaking out of his body.

Frightened confusion captured Ian as he looked at the bleeding body on the ground and his bloodied knuckles. He then looked up and found a cloaked figure with their hood pulled over their eyes and with long blue hair peeking out the sides. Ian's eyes then fell to the steel sword in their hand and realization hit him.

"You stabbed him?"

The cloaked figure tossed the bloodied sword to Ian and the tactician became even more confused. The person spoke up, "Stop fooling around. We need to kill King Gangrel and end this bloodshed."

Recognition hit Ian when he heard the person speak, "Marth? Is that you? What are you doing here?"

"Just making sure you don't get yourself killed…" Marth then motioned her head to a sprinting Chrom with Olivia and Frederick following behind off in the distance. "As well as him."

Ian followed Marth's gaze and softly muttered, "Right…"

Marth nodded her head toward the tactician and beckoned him to follow, "The sooner we get to the fortress, the sooner the fighting ends," she launched forward. "Come!"

"Got it!" Ian agreed.

With a new determined zeal, Ian and Marth charged through the last remaining defenders of the Plegian Honor Guard. Marth tore off her cloak right before she attacked her first opponent and Ian quickly noticed that she fought in a way close to how Chrom did. Movements were similar and so was technique. Marth's sword, which was practically an exact replica of Chrom's, moved almost exactly like how the real one did.

And yet the only difference Ian noticed while he and Marth fought was her speed and fluid movement, almost like she was dancing. This was a far cry from Chrom's straight forward and power focused fighting style.

Other than that however, most of it felt the same. Ian and Marth moved at an astonishing pace, a speed that seemed to rival when Ian and Chrom fought together.

And soon, all of the soldiers in the immediate area laid on the ground dead. Only those in the background were left fighting the rest of the Shepherds.

Ian and Marth caught up with Chrom, Olivia, and Frederick when Chrom jokingly spoke up, "Glad to see you could join us!"

"Got a little sidetracked back there! Sorry about that!" Ian responded.

Chrom nodded and turned to the blue haired woman running beside them, "And I'm surprised to see you here as well, Marth!"

"Just wanted to make sure the campaign was a success!" she replied.

"Will be now with you here to help!" Chrom grinned. A torrent of fireballs began to fall on the approaching Shepherds and Frederick yelled.

"May I suggest we do the reunion some other time!"

Chrom nodded, "Right!" he raised Falchion into the air and gave orders to the group. "Everyone split up, take down those mages!"

Everyone yelled an affirmative as they all went their ways toward the mages lined along the castle walls. Even Olivia had a determined fire in her eyes that was only comparable to when she danced.

Chrom continued running in a straight path directly at Gangrel and spoke to himself, "I'll get the Mad King."

Once he was several yards away from the Plegian King, Chrom's running came to a halt and he pointed Falchion's tip forward, "Gangrel!"

For the first time since Chrom had known the Mad King, Gangrel said nothing. After an uncertain amount of time, Chrom spoke up again, "Gangrel! Now ends the day you bring terror to Ylisse! We will release your hold on Plegia so both our nations will finally know peace!"

Gangrel continued to stay silent.

Chrom became irritated and shouted once more, "Gangrel, we will-!"

"Peace..." the Mad King began.

Chrom stopped, "What? Wait, you mean you're willing to-?"

Gangrel snarled, his eyes glowing with murderous intent. "Tell me, princling. What does that word even mean?"

The Ylissean prince's brows furrowed, "What are you talking about?"

Gangrel slowly began to pull out a wicked looking sword that shaped itself like a lightning bolt and held it at his side, "You don't know what it means do you?" he spat. "That's fine. No man does."

"I know more than you ever will," Chrom shot back, his patience shortening.

The king's face continued to twist even further, his voice more acidic, "You lie," and before Chrom could even begin his rebuttal Gangrel screamed, "YOU KNOW NOTHING! ABSOLUTELY NOTHING OF PEACE!"

Chrom was shocked by the king's sudden change in persona. No longer was there the arrogant tyrant he knew, no longer was there the stoic king now, only left was a man crying out in absolute rage.

"PLEGIA USED TO BE SOMETHING! WE USED TO BE EVERYTHING! BEFORE YOUR FATHER AND HIS BASTARD WAR, PLEGIA WAS THE MOST ADVANCED COUNTRY ON THE ENTIRE CONTINENT! IN THE ENTIRE WORLD!"

Chrom stood still in shocked silence as the sounds of fighting and dying mages became a distant sound.

Gangrel continued, "We were peace! We were the leaders of it! We demanded it! But no, your father couldn't live well enough alone. He couldn't stand the fact of how far we had come. He wanted to take it all. And he used the excuse that we were Plegian to do it! Because the country's religion was Grimleal!"

He stepped forward, "He used you all! He was the one that destroyed our peace! And when almost every Plegian laid dead in the bloody streets and our capital in fire and ruins, your bitch of a sister decided to call it all off at the last possible second and say "I'm sorry"?" he brought his sword into the air and a lightning bolt fell where Chrom stood before the prince jumped out of the way. "DON'T INSULT US LIKE THAT!"

Chrom continued to sprint and dodge the king's attacks as he tried to make his way into melee range, "_Alright, he's lost it. The only mercy I can do for him now is to kill him."_

The insanity associated with the king returned, "Come! Come, princling! I've sharpened my sword just for you! See how the bolts fly! Smell the burning ground beneath your feet!"

Chrom launched right at Gangrel and began a fury of attacks. The king blocked each one and began to laugh, "Surprise!" he yelled before he slapped Chrom across the face.

The prince stumbled before he jumped forward again, bringing Falchion to a hard side swing and shoving Gangrel as well when their swords connected. Gangrel tumbled and Chrom kicked him right in the rear before he fell to the ground.

Gangrel growled and pointed his sword forward, bolts of lightning flew out the tip and Chrom ran as the electrical beam began to follow.

He ran and then quickly changed directions to under the beam and then jumped at Gangrel; the king swung his sword back and tried to parry the attack, but the force from Chrom's jump and weight knocked it out of his hand and to the side.

Chrom made to chop off the king's head and Gangrel ducked, grabbing Chrom's arms when he made for a second attempt, "Woops!" Gangrel laughed before his foot shot out and kicked Chrom in the groin.

"Ragh!" Chrom grunted as he suddenly fell to his knees and immediately grabbed for his pelvic region. Gangrel began to skip around the area and dance with glee.

"Oh? Did I just hit the kingdom's jewels? Ahahaha! Shame! What a pity! I hope you didn't need them!"

"Gangrel, you bastard!" Chrom snarled, wincing in pain.

Gangrel laughed, "It was a dirty trick, wasn't it? Getting kicked in the balls. That's exactly how it felt like back then too!"

"Bastard…" Chrom repeated as he shakily stood back up. "It doesn't have to be like this. Forget about the past, it's over now!"

"Oh the irony is real, I can taste it in my mouth," Gangrel turned to face Chrom. "Says the man who comes here to murder me over his sister!"

"You took her!" Chrom yelled.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Gangrel waved a finger. "And this is exactly how it is. An unending cycle of pointing fingers and yelling contests. Oh how I do so love politics."

Chrom roared as he launched forward once again, ignoring the pain in his lower region and going in for an upper diagonal swipe.

Gangrel's eyes widened at the surprising speed of the prince and continued to dodge and parry every attack that came, slowly backpedaling himself toward the fortress's walls.

Ian, Olivia, Marth, and Frederick ran as fast as they could as they approached the scene. The white haired tactician then called out his friend's name, "Chrom!" Gangrel tried to use this shout as a distraction and attempted to punch Chrom in the face, but the prince's focus was only on Gangrel.

When Gangrel's fist shot forward, Chrom swiftly moved his head out of the way and went for the stab, running Gangrel through the chest and out his back. Gurgling sounds began to arrive and blood fell from the king's mouth.

Once Ian and the others had arrived, they found Chrom barely holding on his legs as they wobbled uncontrollably. The prince pulled his sword out of Gangrel's body and the Mad King fell. Somehow he was still alive, and sucking feverishly for air.

Watching his friend shaking in pain, Ian became worried about where he was injured. Just as he and Frederick were about to step forward, Olivia rushed to Chrom's side and worriedly began to ask, "Chrom, are you alright? Where are you hurt?"

Chrom moaned, "He hit me…"

"Where'd he hit you?" she asked.

Chrom's lips were sealed tightly shut as an embarrassed look began to creep on his face. He reluctantly answered, "...Down there."

"Down… where?" Olivia began to look confused.

An irritated growling sound resonated from Chrom's throat before he answered again, "Down… in my business."

"Business…?" Olivia blinked before it dawned on her and her face turned a bright red. "Oh…" Chrom began to take in deep inhales and forced exhales as he rocked back and forth. Frederick had a worried look along with Olivia and Ian couldn't help but inadvertently bring a hand down to cover his crotch while another covered his mouth as he tried to stifle his laughter. As much as he felt the empathetic pain of Chrom, the sight of his friend rocking back and forth holding his pelvic region cracked the young tactician up.

Even Marth cracked a little smile as she watched Olivia fret over Chrom.

The moment was broken however when the gurgling sounds of blood entering lungs became more and more noticeable. There was a large hole embedded in Gangrel's chest and his arms laid motionless by his side as blood trickled down the side of his mouth.

The king's head lolled a bit while he angrily glared at Chrom. He growled, "Damn princeling, don't even know how to make a clean kill. You damn Ylisseans always like seeing others suffer."

"You're still alive?" Chrom's eyes widened.

Gangrel coughed up blood, the veins in his neck beginning to show, "This is all some kind of sick joke…" he tried to yell. "I should put your head on a pike!"

Frederick brought his sword out in anger, "Then allow me ease your suffering, worm..."

"Frederick, no," Chrom said before he got back up. Olivia held Chrom's arm with her shoulders as she gingerly picked him up, her face showing her concern.

"Milord…" Frederick started before Chrom picked up Falchion.

"I was the one that started it. So let me be the one to finish it."

The great knight stared at the man he had sworn his life to protect for a moment before he bowed his head and allowed the prince to proceed, "As you wish, milord."

Chrom's shadow loomed over the dying Plegian King before Gangrel spat, "Taking your time are we? Reenacting a scene from your favorite tragedy? How quaint. Stare down at me from your perch like your joke of a sister. A joke of an exalt!"

"Gangrel…" Chrom's face darkened as he lifted Falchion high into the air. "In the name of both Ylisse and Plegia, I hereby execute you in the name of a brighter future."

"Do it!" Gangrel happily screamed. "Do it you coward! Do it!" And Chrom's blade fell.

As Chrom brought his sword down to end the Mad King's life, the world seemed to slow for Gangrel as he watched his death before him. In his head his mind was calm and he apologetically spoke his regret.

"_Well, guess I couldn't keep my promise. I'm sorry, old man. This is where I die…"_

The blade fell, and Mad King Gangrel was no more.

* * *

Several hours since the death of King Gangrel, the Shepherds all moved east to meet up with the rest of the Feroxi Army. There they saw the size of the captive Plegian Army and their incredible numbers stand idly by as night befell them all. Camp fires were seen all across the board for the two armies.

Chrom, Frederick, Lissa, Ian, Khan Flavia and Basilio would then meet with the commanding officer and support staff for the captured Plegian Army and work out temporary negotiations. Once all of that was done, the officers returned back to their men and announced the end of the war. The soldiers gave mixed responses of elated cheers and confused silence.

It wouldn't be for at least several more months into the future would full negotiations between the three countries of Ylisse, Regan Ferox, and Plegia begin.

And so, on that cold mid-August night where the war finally came to an end, the Shepherds would set up tents and their own campfires, medical tents, and an armory to clean their bloodied weapons.

Ian walked around the campsite and checked to make sure everything was properly set and everyone was taken care of. Many of the Shepherds in the final attack on the desert fortress had taken several scars and wounds, a few were still unconscious since the king's end but still very much alive. The only major worry was Cordelia when she was knocked off her pegasus at nearly five hundred feet. The woman held several fractured and broken bones from the fall. It would only be through the tireless efforts of the Shepherd's healers and time would she finally begin to recover.

Marth also disappeared like usual and was nowhere to be found.

Ian looked down the roster of names and was proud to learn however that the casualty count was an astonishing and miraculous zero.

"Heh, look at that. Not a single death. Not a one. Lucky us, guess I bought that red ink bottle for nothing," Ian chuckled before he looked forward and gave an exhausted sigh. "I hope Cordelia makes it alright," He then began to make his way over to Chrom's tent and saw the silhouette of Chrom's figure against the light sitting upright in his cot. A second figure with their hair tied up in a bun stood cover Chrom's shadow as they tended to his wounds.

Ian pulled the tent flaps to the side and poked his head inside. There he saw Chrom sitting in his bed with Olivia standing by as she wrapped a linen cloth around one his arms. A lit wax candle on a table illuminate the entire tent, "Hey you two. Mind if I come in?"

"Hey, Ian," Chrom acknowledged with a kind smile while Olivia continued to bandage his wounds. "Sure, come on in. Just don't walk around too much, not a whole lot of room."

"It's bigger than my tent," Ian smirked. "Heck, it's bigger than everyone else's tents. I have no clue what you're talking about with no room."

Chrom continued to smile while he shook his head, "Spoiled I guess. Always did live too extravagantly for my own good."

"Okay, now you're just giving yourself too much credit. I can't make fun of a guy who is being humble about his riches," Ian said.

"Who said I was being humble?" Chrom joked.

The two men laughed while Olivia pulled on Chrom's hand and began to bandage his knuckles. Ian turned to the dancer, "Hey, Olivia. You look like you're doing well."

Olivia smiled, "Yes. I'm just glad that the fighting is over and everyone made it alright."

"Can't believe it really is though. That Gangrel is finally dead..." Chrom thought out loud. "I wonder what Emm is thinking right now."

"Probably that killing people is bad," Ian joked as he leaned back and cross his arms. "But on a more serious note, there is going to be a lot of new changes now with Gangrel out of the picture. Lots of politics and treaty meets," he grinned. "I do not envy to be in your shoes right now."

"Don't remind me," Chrom sighed as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back toward the ceiling. "Right now I just want to sit back, relax, and not worry about a thing," he let out a satisfied exhale.

"How's the family jewels?" Ian asked.

"Hurts more than that punch you gave me," Chrom replied, still staring upwards.

Ian chuckled as he turned back to Olivia, "So, how about you? What are you planning to do now since the fighting is over?"

Olivia paused, "Well… I suppose I will have to go back to Regna Ferox with Khan Basilio and the others," she gave a small smile. "It has been fun though," she softly whispered.

"You… don't have to leave if you don't want to," Chrom said with a sad tone in his voice. "I could talk to Basilio and make some kind of arrangement for you to live at the castle with us."

Olivia blushed, "Oh no! I couldn't do such a thing. That would be way too much trouble for you."

"It's fine," Chrom said with a sudden determined look in his eyes. "We could get you to live in Ylisstol and you can get to visit all the theatres and performances you want! It'd be great!" Chrom paused at his blunder as he started to give a small blush. "...For you of course. You'll be able to live your dream, I'm sure Basilio wouldn't mind."

Olivia stared with an astonished look on her face; her eyes staring straight at Chrom as her cheeks turned pink. She clasped her hands together as she bashfully looked toward the ground and smiled, "That… does sound nice."

Ian couldn't help but smile as well as he looked at the touching scene. He slowly backed out of the tent and gave a small wave toward Chrom who gave him a smile and a nod back. Ian walked away into the night as he looked back and saw the silhouettes of Chrom and Olivia giving one another a hug.

Ian put his hands into his coat pockets and looked toward the star filled sky and smiled.

"I'm proud of you, mate."

As he stood in the middle of the camp and looked toward the sky, a small wind blew past Ian, rustling his hair and lightly pulling on the flaps of his coat. Ian turned his head slightly to the left and saw the spire he and the rest of the Shepherds had taken a rest at the week before and before they had met up with Gregor and Nowi for the first time. A sudden curiosity grabbed ahold of Ian when he looked at the imposing natural formation and decided to make his way; walking toward the shrouded spire that pierced the heavens.

He left the outskirts of the Feroxi-Ylissean camp and saw off in the distance the many campfires of the Plegian camp only a several hundred yards away. There was laughter coming from there, just like how their camp sounded. But the only difference between the two armies was the fact that the Plegians didn't have any tents. All they had were each other and the fiery log pits.

As Ian got closer and closer to the spire and far away from any of the camps, a still silence fell upon the tactician as he walked into the formation's shadow.

A soft whisper he heard the day before Emmeryn's death began to echo in the winds once again; a battle where the sounds of clashing metal and screaming soldiers slowly became more and more real.

_...They're coming!_

Ian reached the spire and found a little sandy hill that held the shine from the moonlight.

_...Go! We'll act as rearguard. Go back to the capital! Protect it at all costs! _

He reached the top of the hill and looked over the flat sandscape.

_...Thank you… And good luck. We won't forget this sacrifice…_

Ian scanned the surrounding area as everything was brightly lit by the light in the sky.

_...Here we go, boys!_

It was all clear. Nothing but sand, just like the rest of the desert.

_...Do you sons of bitches want to live forever? C'mon! Keep going! Just a little bit longer! Hold the line a little bit longer! Our mates at the capital need more time to prepare!_

Another breeze chilled the young man.

_...C'mon ladies! You think you can dance? This is Plegian airspace! Ain't none of you getting past me!_

"_Who is that voice?" _Ian thought as the sounds of fighting and shouting continued in the wind.

_...Keep em comin'! Keep em comin', girls! You're all gonna learn-!_

The wind spun and whipped in Ian's ears, causing the tactician to wince as the man's voice stopped for a second. There was a sound of a wyvern giving a mighty roar and the second sound of an arrow piercing through armor. Then there was a stab and the voice screamed.

_...AAAAARRGGGHHHH!_

...Followed closely by the sound of a wyvern screaming as well.

...Then there was a pitch. And a fall…

...And a crash.

Ian continued walking around the base of the spire with the moonlight illuminating the way, and from the corner of his peripherals saw something glisten in the dark. He walked over and saw a bone; a bone that was a part of a tail, leading back into the dark shadow of the spire.

_...Frestrum…_

The young man illuminated a fire in his hands as he walked forward, his eyes widening when he saw a full skeletal body of a large beast.

_...Frestrum… Are you alright, mate? ...Are you good, buddy?_

There was a weak snort.

_...Heh… no. I guess not. Looks like it's the end of the line for us…_

Ian crouched down and traced a hand over the old bones.

_...This is where we die now, buddy. It's been a good ride. Hope the guys in the afterlife saved us a few beers… Heh… looks like sis was right, just like she always is… Ugh… Damn pegasus knights got me good… But… Heh, you kind of look like shit too, Fres…_

There was small irritated snort. As Ian waved a hand over the wyvern bones, a small item half buried in the sand caught the boy's eye.

_...Guess they ain't getting… my letter… Too bad. Our little man would have liked it…_

Another affirmative snort.

_...Whelp, time to get some shuteye, mate. Getting pretty sleepy… Kind of wish I got to see her face one more time though… Think she would have accepted my ring if I proposed?_

The wyvern almost chuckled.

_...Yeah, guess you're right. She probably would have slapped… me..._

Ian pulled out the small object from the sands and saw a faded bag worn over time.

He gently opened the clasps of the bag and pulled out a couple written sheets of paper. The wind gasped.

_...Wait… Cassandra…? _

_...Jon…_

The whispers and the wind stopped. Ian looked around feeling as though someone were watching him. But once the moment had passed as well as the feeling, Ian turned back to the pages in his hands and dusted the sand off the letters.

They were dusty, fragile looking. And had terrible handwriting.

_June 28th, 1604_

_Hey, sis. It's me, Jon. _

_A lot of things have been going on as of late, but nothing for me to really complain about. It's been about two weeks since Cassandra escaped, but unfortunately with so many assignments piling up I haven't had the opportunity to go and look for her. Though I guess it's for the best, what right do I have to keep her here? She got out, fair and square. And besides, they'd probably kill me if I pulled something like that._

_And I know what you're going to say, Laura. And no I'm not over in on my head… Well, maybe just a little._

_The Ylisseans have been taking a lot of losses and everyone keeps saying the war is probably going to end within a month. But you mentioned conscripts though. Just how many are we talking here? Because I'm not sure how many farmers are left over there. Hopefully we have enough guys here to fend off any attack. _

_And speaking of Ylisse, how are you guys over there? I hear it's pretty bad. Hopefully you guys are far enough on the outskirts that no one would really notice._

_Well, I'm going to end the letter there. Not a whole lot going on beside that. We got this, sis, so stop your worrying. Your hair is white enough as it is, don't want it falling out neither. So smile! Smile, you beautiful woman! And laugh! You have Ian and gramps over there! Nothing to be worried about!_

"_Ian?"_ surprise took ahold of the tactician as he read his name in the letter. "_The kid's name is Ian?"_

_I'm adding in another letter to go along with this as well again. You know the procedure. Ain't you seein' none of this, sister. Nuh uh. Ian's eyes only. Haha, love you sis. Hope I'll get to see you guys again very soon._

_With love from your favorite brother,_

_Jon_

Ian felt another page underneath the one he had just read and began to read that as well.

_June 28th, 1604_

_Hey there, kiddo! It's me again! I got another letter for you and I know you're going to love it. Fres says hi and that he can't wait to see you again. We got that picture you drew of Frestrum and me and we absolutely love it! He says you drew his body too big and his head too small though, but between you and me, I think it looks exactly like him, haha. Don't tell him I said that though. Rather not be shaken off while flying again. So wow, it's been two years since I last saw you. You're all grown up now. Four years old! Time sure does fly, huh? Well, don't worry! The war may be ending in a couple weeks so that means I'll be seeing you, mommy, and gramps very soon! How great is that?_

_Well, as always I've written you some advice for when you get older. Especially for when you get older. It may sound yucky to you right now, but it ain't all that bad. Don't worry. So read carefully now, okay? _

_When a man meets a woman and he finds himself liking her very much. And I'm not just talking about the regular kind of like where you share toys or your food. Well, it is kind of like that, but it's more than just that. I'm talking about liking a person to the point of loving them. _

_Now, Ian, there are going to be girls in your life that you are going to develop feelings for (Ask mom what develop means). And they are going to come and go. Don't be discouraged when they do go. Sometimes if they like you back, they will come back. You just need to be patient. And when they do come back, hold her close and make her the happiest girl in the world. Because you are a gentleman and you will protect her. And sometimes she may even return the favor and help protect you._

_Relationships (The invisible bond between two people) are not a fifty-fifty deal. But one hundred-one hundred. That means you give your all and she has to give her all, alright? And when things don't go your way, don't be discouraged. No regrets, do you understand?_

_Now, I'm going to wrap this up. So when you read this letter, don't tell mom what I wrote in here until I tell you to, okay? Mommy is very protective of you and loves you very much, so she won't like the idea of marriage until you are much, much older. You'll appreciate some of this advice when you do get older._

_Remember that I will always love you, mommy, and gramps very much. But I will always love you the most. So keep your head high and be strong for me, okay? I'll teach you how to fly Frestrum very soon._

_From your very awesome, loving uncle and even cooler wyvern,_

_Jon and Frestrum_

As Ian sat by a wall and read the letters with the moonlight acting as his only source of light, brightly illuminating the words as they rested upon the pages, the young tactician felt a strange sense of longing and regret in his heart.

He scanned the fragile letters and kept looking back at his name staring back at him. He felt a connection to this Jon person but couldn't make out a reason why. He felt happy but at the same time very sad, and just like the connection to the writer, couldn't find a reason.

Ian looked back and stared at the skeletal remains of a supposed wyvern. He looked back at the open desert field before him and finally noticed for the first time little spots of weapons and armor very discreetly half buried in the open plain.

"_Is… all of this from the last war? Am I sitting on a former battlefield?" _Ian asked himself. He got up to walk forward and explore for a bit before he realized the letters still in his hands. He turned around and looked at the long dead wyvern and eventually walked back.

The young tactician stood over the skeleton and looked over the bones before he placed his hands together before him and bowed his head as a sign of respect, "Hey, Mr. Wyvern? I'm going to take these letters with me, if you don't mind. I don't know why, but I feel as though they may help me recover some of my memories. I hope I'm not disturbing your rest. But if anything, if these letters are not what I think they are, I'd like to deliver them to that little kid and mother your partner mentioned."

Ian gave a little chuckle when he thought about that last part, "_Little kid, huh? He's probably around my age right now. Wonder what's he like?"_

He then turned back and walked out from the shadow of the spire, giving a small wave to the wyvern as he headed back to camp, "Thanks… And sleep tight, mate. You deserve it."

As Ian walked back to the warm comfort of fire pits and a bed, there was another whisper in the wind that was barely noticeable to the tactician's ears. Swearing however that he thought he heard the sound of a wyvern giving an amused snort.

* * *

**Here we finally wrap up the War with Plegia arc of the game and will finally move onto the two-year time gap. Holy crap it's finally done. Yes! The thought really has not registered with me yet so give me some time. But holy cow it's finally done...**

**I realized about halfway through writing this chapter that I really enjoy writing fight scenes, so it may seem like I have gone a little bit overboard with the action. If you guys think I put too much emphasis on the fighting, hit me up and let me know. If you guys think it's fine as it is then also hit me up and let me know. **

**I just want to thank you guys for sticking with this story so far and that I love each and every one of you beautiful people. Have a good one everyone and keep being awesome! **


	9. Chapter 8: Beginning Again

**Hello again everyone and long time no see! Life has been making me work nonstop these past few weeks and I don't see any end of it for at least another two and a half months. But we are finally here as we now dive into the two year time-skip in _Awakening. _I hope you all enjoy and have a good one, everybody.**

* * *

**Chapter 8: Beginning Again**

"Do you, Sumia, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? Now and forever?"

"I do," she blushed. "Now and forever."

"And do you, Frederick, take Sumia to be your lawfully wedded wife? Now and forever?"

"I do," he smiled. "Now and forever."

"Then by the power invested by Naga and under her watchful gaze, I now pronounce you man and wife," the priest smiled. "You may kiss the bride."

Sumia wrapped her arms around Frederick's neck as he leaned forward and breathed her in, the whole room erupted with sounds of cheers and applause.

Ian watched from the sidelines as he watched Chrom clap enthusiastically by Frederick's side while the usually stoic knight beamed down on his wife. Sumia couldn't stop smiling as she brought Frederick into another tight embrace before the two turned toward the crowd and waved their hands.

It had been roughly five months since the end of the Plegian campaign and things were finally beginning to settle down in the halidom. Prince Chrom was the now unequivocal leader of Ylisse but all the while forswearing to take on the title of exalt out of respect for his late sister.

Peace had returned to Ylisse but Plegia on the other hand had become a darker place of growing uncertainty.

Cordelia walked up to Sumia with tears in her eyes and gave her friend a joyful embrace. Chrom also moved up to Frederick and shook his long time friend's hand before pulling him into a one armed hug. Lissa ran up and barreled into the two men as she tried to hug Frederick with a laughing Chrom at the side.

Ian and Vaike stood up clapping while Gaius continued sitting down. Ian gave out a laugh as he watched Frederick try to break free from the tight group hug that was Chrom and Lissa, "I can't believe he actually did it!"

"Heck ya he did!" Vaike grinned while looking incredibly out of character with his suit and tie before giving out another woop. "Fred the "grouchy pain in the butt" -erson is the first in the Shepherds to get married! Never saw it coming!"

Gaius quickly nodded before swallowing a piece of food.

"First time seeing him without his armor too. He looks good in a suit," Ian continued clapping as he watched Frederick and Sumia walk past them down the aisle with their arms linked.

Vaike gave out another loud whoop, "Go, Freddy!"

Gaius gave a half-assed cheer before stuffing his mouth once more.

Ian finally noticed the thief's lack of attention and saw he was still sitting down with a half eaten piece of cake in his hands. He slowly called out to his friend, "Gaius? What on earth is that?" Vaike noticed Ian's questioning demeanor and turned around to the orange haired thief.

"Cake," Gaius simply replied before shoving another piece into his mouth.

"Where did you get that cake?" Ian asked again.

The man gave a swallow while he continued his shameless eating, "From the reception area."

"You mean… from the giant cake?" Vaike's eyes began to widen.

"Mmhmm," Gaius nodded, looking quite proud of himself. "Can't wait to get some more."

Ian and Vaike stared at each other in horror while all the guests began filing out the room toward where the night's festivities were about to begin and where the cake with a large hole in its side sat. Gaius happily continued eating his slice.

The two men then bolted for the door in an attempt to hide their friend's blunder.

"Oh crap!"

"Hold up!"

* * *

Ian and Vaike sprinted past a confused Frederick and Sumia down the hallway just as the two were about to head into the reception area. Once they entered the room they found the tall, glistening wedding cake still standing by a giant ice sculpture of a pegasus and a wide glass window showing the night sky. They came to a sudden halt and immediately began searching for the gaping hole.

Vaike ran behind the table that held the cake and his face paled, "H-hole! There's a hole!"

"How big is it?" Ian demanded before he speedily ran up to the sweating blonde. "Holy cow! It's huge!"

"What are we going to do?" Vaike panicked.

"We need to stuff the hole!"

"With what?"

"Those folded napkins! We can use that!"

"A-alright!"

"W-wait! You're making a mess!"

"It won't fit!"

"You're being too forceful! Be gentle! Here, let me hold it for you!"

"Ow! That hurt! No need to be so rough!"

"Oh, jeeze! It's all white and gooey!"

"Hurry! They're coming!"

"Oh, screw me!"

Ian and Vaike hastily finished up their pitiful attempt at fixing the hole in the wedding cake just as everyone began filing into the room and made their way toward their respected tables. Frederick and Sumia walked up with their arms still linked all the while the now married great knight gave the two men a suspecting glare.

Ian smiled as pleasantly as he could with Vaike on the side doing the same thing, "Hiya, Frederick! Hey, Sumia. What are you two up to?"

Frederick's eyes narrowed, "I should be asking _you_ that."

"Us? Oh nothing!" Vaike started. "We're doing absolutely nothing! Nothing suspicious! Not trying to hide anything, really-" Ian stomped on Vaike's foot while still maintaining his pleasant smile. "Ow!"

"Nope! We just couldn't wait to congratulate you guys on your marriage and we wanted to be the first ones in line when the cake is cut to be able to say that."

"Well," Sumia smiled. "The cake cutting won't start until after the main meal and there is nothing stopping you two from doing that right now."

The two men continued to maintain their suspicious smiles for a brief moment before Ian perked up, "Ah yes! Yes, of course! Er… congratulations!" he elbowed Vaike's arm and hissed through his teeth. "Say congratulations, Vaike."

"Congrats," Vaike shakily let out.

Both Frederick and Sumia continued to have skeptical looks on their faces, more so with Frederick. But after several nerveracking, awkward moments the man shook his head and walked with Sumia toward their main table, muttering under his breath about how something strange was going on.

As the newly married couple walked away, Ian and Vaike continued their nervous smiles until they were absolutely sure Frederick and Sumia had gone away. They then gave exhausted sighs of relief.

"That was too close," Ian let out.

"Yer tellin' me. I was so nervous my suit just started heatin' up. The Vaike is all sweaty now and I didn't even get to start working out," Vaike sighed while tugging at his collar.

Just as Ian went back to check the correction he and Vaike made on the cake, Gaius walked into the room and made a beeline for the extravagant tower. The two men didn't notice the thief's presence until they heard the sounds of quiet munching. They looked up to the sight of Gaius shamelessly grabbing a piece of the cake and walking away while licking his lips.

"Gaius!" the two men loudly hissed as the man ignored their quiet but frantic yellings and made his way over to their table to eat.

Ian's eyes lowered as he muttered after Gaius's retreating figure, "That bastard…"

"Right little thief, ain't he? I thought I was bad! But this! This takes the cake!"

Ian blinked before slowly turning his gaze towards Vaike and coldly muttered, "Shut up…"

Vaike scratched the back of his head and weakly let out, "Er… sorry. Didn't mean to bring out the pun."

Ian sighed before he looked back at Gaius, "Whatever," he began rubbing his eyes. "Honestly, we need to talk to him about this. We can't just have him shamelessly stealing cake during a wedding. He's going to have all of us killed."

Vaike slapped Ian on the back, "Go for it. The Vaike will hold down the fort here, ain't no one catching a glimpse here."

The tactician sighed appreciatively and smiled, "Thanks. Think you can try to patch up that second hole Gaius made? I'll be right back," he then stalked over to Gaius's table with an almost murderous aura radiating off him and took a seat.

Vaike continued standing by the wedding cake trying to act as inconspicuous as possible while he used the extra napkins to hide the hole. People passed him by and once he was done, he began whistling and keeping his hands behind his back while waving towards anyone that greeted him. Ironically though this only brought more attention to him in addition to the suit he wore on his normally shirtless body.

He continued this charade until Maribelle walked up and crossed her arms, "You're hiding something," she immediately accused.

Vaike flinched, "What? No! ...What makes you say that?"

"Because you are acting very peculiar… Well more so than normal."

"I always try to strive to be more than normal," Vaike proudly boasted before he paused. "Wait, what did you mean by that?"

The young noble's eyes narrowed, "What are you hiding?" she repeated.

"Nothing!" Vaike denied once more. "I'm just standin' here minding my own business and enjoyin' the view of the moon," Maribelle raised an eyebrow and Vaike flinched. "What? The Vaike likes to appreciate nature once in a while too!"

"With your back _towards_ the window?"

"I… wanted to rest my eyes?" the man's nervousness began to show.

Maribelle shook her head and let out a sigh, "Honestly…"

An awkward silence befell the two Shepherds and Vaike continued to avoid eye contact by scratching the back of his head. Maribelle eventually lost interest while still standing by the cake and just simply began scanning the room.

After an indefinite amount of time, the normally blonde haired fighter turned impromptu cake guard hesitantly spoke up, "Say, uh… you look good there, Maribelle. Dress suits you!"

Maribelle turned back to Vaike, "Are you trying to distract me from the fact that you are hiding something with idle flattery?"

"No!" Vaike waved his hands in front of him. "It's a genuine compliment! You look like a total babe!"

"And what kind of cloddish form of compliment is that? Am I just simply some creature to be ogled at?"

A vein popped inside Vaike's forehead before he irritably turned away and stuffed his hands in his dress pant's pockets, "Ya know what? Forget I said anything."

Maribelle continued to give an indignant stare before she turned her head away and let out a dissatisfied "Hmph."

Another silence reigned once more over the two as talk filled the rest of the room. Shepherds and guests alike walking between well prepared tables of white cloth and candlelit centerpieces and talking to one another for the few moments before the short speeches and toasts were about to begin. Not every Shepherd could have made it to the event due to time constraints or geographical differences such as with the case of Lon'qu, but when he looked at Maribelle still standing by his side Vaike couldn't help but notice someone else was missing.

"Hey, I just realized this but... Long haired priest guy ain't here. What's he up to?" Vaike thought out loud as he stared straight ahead.

Maribelle raised another eyebrow at Vaike before she promptly replied, "Libra? Do you mean Libra?"

"Yeah, that guy," Vaike continued looking forward.

The young noble tried her best to ignore the man's blatantly ignorant behaviour by staring at the room ahead as well and gave her answer, "Libra does not wish to attend these events at the moment. He is still… coping with his loss."

"Still?" Vaike's brows furrowed. "But the war ended ages ago!"

"It was only five months ago. That is a very short amount of time especially when it comes to the death of a loved one or few. He needs time to recover," she kindly finished.

"But Cordelia lost a couple of her buddies before she joined up with us. She's hangin' out at the weddin'. And Chrom! He lost his sister and so did Lissa! Two squirts look like they're havin' a blast!"

"Cordelia is happy to be here because this is her best friend's wedding. Chrom and Lissa are happy because the man that is practically family to them is getting married to her. It is a day of rejoicing and they want to be here," Maribelle turned her head back to Vaike. "But some people don't have any of that and they need more time to themselves," Vaike stared back at Maribelle with an almost guilty look on his face before he slowly nodded, pursing his lips before he turned back away.

Several more moments passed before Vaike hesitantly spoke up, "So… uh… when did you say you were going to your seat?"

"Once I find out what you're hiding."

* * *

"Honestly, Gaius? You really do not care."

"Nope," the thief leaned back in his chair while propping his feet onto the table.

Ian placed a hand to his face and let out a long, exhausted sigh. The tactician just continued giving Gaius the death glare while the thief began picking at his teeth, continuing this action until he decided he really did not care. Ian then got up from his seat when Gaius called after him.

"Sorry, Bubbles. You know this is a habit I can't break. Cake is too good to pass up and wait for later," he reached for something in his pocket.

"Yeah, yeah," Ian waved it off looking tired. "But you do know they say good things happens to those who wait."

"Yes they do," the thief smiled before tossing a wrapped lollipop into Ian's hands who barely caught it. "That is for you for being so patient with me," Gaius flashed a cheeky grin and pointed. Ian continued to have an unamused look on his face before he shook his head and walked back to Vaike.

Still irritated, Ian reached the blonde haired man and saw Maribelle standing suspiciously close to Vaike before the young tactician turned back to his friend. He then noticed the nervous look on Vaike's face.

"Help... me…" he quietly worded out.

Ian turned back to Maribelle and asked, "Something wrong, Maribelle?"

The young woman nodded, "I am under suspicion that Vaike may be hiding something. I refuse to leave his side until I find out what that is," Ian looked at Vaike who continued to quietly plead.

Ian gave a sheepish look and simply said.

"Vaike ripped his pants."

"What," Vaike said.

"Excuse me?" Maribelle asked.

"Vaike ripped his pants," Ian repeated. "Right at the butt."

"I…" Maribelle started, her face going red. "I did not know. I didn't see any rip…"

"Oh he ripped it, ripped it good," Ian said in a monotone voice before turning to Vaike. Vaike's face held absolute horror as sounds of a dying man slowly crawled from his mouth. Ian looked on with absolutely no sympathy on his face.

"Well… I see then," Maribelle turned to walk away. "He best get that fixed then," she then tried to quickly increase the distance between her and the crestfallen Vaike. Ian and Vaike faced each other and Ian continued to hold his sheepish look as Vaike grabbed his shoulders and shook, demanding to know why his friend would so shamelessly embarrass him.

Ian's face still held his neutral look when he begrudgingly answered, "Because we all act like arses to each other. Let's just go back to our seats."

* * *

The rest of the night continued without a hitch. The celebratory speeches and toasts were short but sweet. The meal was delicious which consisted of several exquisite foods of mainly meats, pastries, and salads. All of which were made by the Royal Cooks at Chrom's request. Ian, Vaike, and Gaius all stared at the multiple forks and spoons before them and just simply guessed and picked which were used for the right occasion. It wouldn't be until about halfway through the meal would the cake cutting begin to take place.

Ian and Vaike stared on in nervous anticipation as Frederick and Sumia stood up to begin the cutting of the cake. Gaius began licking his lips with excited premonition. The couple of the day walked over to the cake with their laughter accompanying them the whole way, but once they reached their destination and picked up the knife, Frederick's smile instantly turned to a frown.

The married knight looked at the bottom of the cake where a set of napkins that held a different hue of white sat. His gaze turned up and immediately looked directly at Ian's and Vaike's table with scrutinizing eyes. Sweat slid down the two men's faces as Ian just simply waved hello. Frederick scrunched his face back at the ruined cake and sadly shook his head, trying to hide his annoyance. Sumia continued laughing without noticing the badly attempted patchwork. Later on it would appear that the only people that seemed to know that night were the great knight, the tactician, the fighter, and the finger licking thief.

After the slices of cake had been passed out, Ian and Vaike returned to their seats sad and cakeless with only a centimeter length piece of white frosting as their desert. Plopping their heads on the table and no longer caring about their lack of manners, they groaned and began internally crying at Frederick's blatant refusal. They stayed that way until they heard Gaius approach and pull out a chair; the sounds of a thief happily eating cake rang loudly in their ears.

They looked up and gave Gaius the best murderous looking death glares they could muster, their gazes intensifying when they noticed the cheeky grin still plastered on Gaius's face. Gaius placed his feet on the table once more and gave a chuckle, pulling out two plates with slices of vanilla cake on each and passed them toward the white and blonde haired men. Their glares changed to surprise and their mouths fell open, looking back and forth between the thief and their deserts in mixed disbelief, causing Gaius to laugh once more before he took another bite, "You two better eat up quick, wasn't easy sneaking these with Frederickson at post. Pretty good if I don't say so myself."

Ian and Vaike continued switching their gazes between the cake and Gaius before excited grins broke forth and they grabbed the nearest fork they could find, shoveling the slices into their mouths like happily starved men.

They both happily murmured their thank yous with cake filled mouths and decided things weren't as bad as they seemed.

* * *

Dancing broke out later in the evening with a band and Olivia singing on stage for everyone to see. And just like her dancing, Olivia's bashful persona seemed to simply evaporate, being replaced by a woman confident in her abilities and singing a melody capable of pulling any harden warrior's heartstrings. Ian stood by Chrom while everyone else was on the dance floor and watching the blue haired youth continue to gaze at the pink haired performer.

Ian lightly elbowed his friend and jokingly asked, "Not planning to go on the dance floor?"

"Nah, I think I'd rather watch," Chrom replied, smiling.

"Yeah right. You're just waiting for her aren't you?" Ian placed his hands in his pockets while Chrom gave a small smirk. Ian grinned when he saw this and turned back to Olivia singing, "See? You didn't even try to deny it."

"How do you know I just haven't thought of a good rebuttal yet?" Chrom asked.

"'No you dummy' would have been a good start," Ian tilted his head back.

"No you dummy," Chrom immediately responded, eliciting Ian to blow through his teeth in amusement.

Olivia continued singing on stage and Chrom continued to grin at her, and for that entire half hour keeping his eyes only on her as he watched. But once the performances were finished and Olivia stepped off the stage to rest from her singing, Chrom immediately stepped forward through the crowd of dancing couples and Ian laughed.

"I knew it."

All Ian saw was Chrom giving a small chuckle before disappearing beyond the throng of people.

* * *

"Olivia, your singing was amazing! I knew you could do it! Thank you so much with helping out with the performances," Sumia gratefully thanked the pink haired dancer.

Olivia immediately blushed and tried to wave off the string of compliments, "N-no, it was fine. I was flat at some parts, I didn't do nearly as well as you've given me credit for."

"Nonsense," Frederick said with a kind smile that contrasted from his normal scowl and his previous attitude towards her. "Your singing is just as good as your dancing. You should be proud," and just as Olivia was about to continue denying her performance, Chrom walked upon the trio with a hand in his pocket and the other giving a small wave.

"Hey, everyone," he smiled.

"Chrom!" Sumia happily greeted the prince before she motioned her hands toward Olivia. "Wasn't Olivia's singing absolutely wonderful?"

Chrom chuckled before smiling affectionately at Olivia, "It was. The most beautiful singing I have ever heard."

Olivia blushed as she averted her eyes towards the floor, "You all give me too much credit," Chrom couldn't help but let out an amused sigh as he shook his head, keeping his smirk as he stepped forward with a hand stretched out. Olivia looked at the gesture and soon became confused, "Chrom?"

"I'm taking you out dancing," he announced.

Olivia's eyes widened and Sumia squealed, "Yes! Do it, Olivia! Do it! Say yes!" Olivia kept staring back at Chrom in marked hesitation while he gave her a reassuring smile. Her breath became caught in her throat at Chrom's smile and her fingers slowly reached forward, tentatively grasping his hand with hers.

Frederick slightly cocked his head and raised a brow at Chrom and Chrom smirked back. The knight lightheartedly shook his head when he jokingly said, "Be careful, milord."

"I'll try not to get slapped," Chrom responded as he dragged a heavily blushing Olivia in tow. The married couple watched them as the two made to the dance floor, but became confused when they moved passed all the dancers. Even Ian who was observing the entire transaction had a puzzled look on his face when Chrom and Olivia broke away from the crowd and moved past him. They then walked through the paned glass doors outside and descended down a flight stairs toward the castle's garden below.

Sumia, Frederick, and Ian leaned against the marble railings of the balcony watching the two dancing figures of Chrom and Olivia down in the large courtyard below. The moon acted as a perfect illumination against the ebony backdrop with every single inch of the courtyard being lit up in a shrouding white. The sounds of instruments being played inside streamed through the double doors from behind.

Everyone smiled as Chrom and Olivia had an intimate pull on one another and moved across the floor, quietly laughing to each other as they danced. Sumia held Frederick's hand as she looked down on the prince she once held feelings for in an earlier time and closed her eyes in remembrance, giving a releasing sigh. She then looked up and beamed at her husband when she quietly asked, "Isn't it romantic?"

The wind hushed and Frederick softly laughed in agreement with his wife, "Aye, that it is," Sumia giggled at Frederick's quiet musings and gently pulled at his arm, motioning him inside. Ian watched as the two reentered the building and couldn't help but shake his head at their amusing behavior. He turned around and simply stood there and watched, saying nothing as his best friend danced with a girl who entered his life only a few short months ago.

Ian smiled to himself, listening to the music behind him and watching the scene before him; slowly nodding to the tempo of the beats and tapping a finger against the railings. But as the song slowly came to an end, so did the movements between Chrom and Olivia eventually slow. The two doing nothing but leaning with their foreheads to one another and gazing into each other's eyes.

Chrom smirked and then reached into his pocket, pulling out a small ring with a gem encased in blue and silver. Ian leaned forward as he looked at the ring, surprise overtaking him as his mouth fell open. Olivia looked just as shocked when Chrom fell down to one knee and presented the silver band, an affectionate smile crossing his lips. Olivia then fell to her knees with a look of disbelief before Chrom closed the distance and brought her into a warm embrace. Olivia returned the hug and gripped at Chrom's clothes as tears rolled down her cheeks. Chrom smiled as he cupped Olivia's face in his hands and she reached up to touch his. Both leaned forward to kiss.

Ian watched from the balcony of the courtyard where the sun didn't shine and the moon's glow touched everything that was once dark. Watched as Chrom proposed to Olivia causing a change in the seasons, marking a new beginning and course for the young man and woman. Watched a world where he didn't exist and nothing else mattered to them but that single moment, where time had frozen and the moon became the sun. Watching their everlasting embrace.

Ian looked on from above at the quiet scene and covered his mouth with his hand, hiding a small smile as he shook his head. He straightened his body as he pushed himself off the marble railings and chuckled, giving a nod of approval before turning around and head for the door.

He leaned his head back and took in one last breath of the cold, night air before breaking out into a quiet laugh. His hand lingered on the handle of the door and felt the cold sensation of its brass against his skin before he let out an amused sigh. Smiling when he opened the door and quietly stepped back inside.

* * *

Within a week the entire halidom had learned of Prince Chrom's proposal to Olivia and their upcoming wedding. And within a month the ceremony was taking place inside of Ylisstol's largest cathedral and it seemed like the entire country had come to watch.

But at the moment Ian didn't care how many people had shown up to the event or who, all that matter was the fact that his best friend was getting married; watching from the sidelines at a cheeky Chrom and blushing but smiling Olivia. But as the priest continued to speak, Ian could tell from the look on Chrom's face that he was not listening to even a single word. From the very moment he and Chrom first met, the two men had been practically inseparable in their endeavours. From the moment he first opened his eyes on those grassy plains to the great walls of Ylisstol and the desert sands in Plegia, there were only a few moments since Ian's remembered existence where they had ever been without one another.

As the priest continued with the ceremony and the young tactician reflected on his memories with Chrom, Ian couldn't help but feel a small tinge of sadness knowing his friend was going to be with someone else. As unreasonable as it may seem, it felt like he was going to lose his best friend, like he was going to lose his brother. But as the minutes passed and the couple's vows had been made, the very words of "Kiss the bride" brought Ian back to reality as he watched Chrom lift the veil from Olivia's face and brought her in for a short but passionate kiss.

The entire room erupted into applause and Ian joined in with them. Shaking his head and throwing away the small heartache and selfishness he felt as he watched his best friend and the woman he loved begin a new chapter in their lives. Ian smiled through all the deafening cheers and clapping and softly whispered, "Good job, buddy."

As Lissa and several of the Shepherds made their way to Chrom and Olivia to congratulate them on their marriage, Ian noticed off in the distance a priest dressed in white robes and long, silky, blonde hair clapping in the background. Libra, just like everyone else around him had a joyful smile plastered on his face, but for reasons Ian could only suspect why, seemed almost disingenuous.

Ian kept his eyes on the priest while he continued clapping, ruminating over ideas and suspicions why Libra radiated such a bittersweet atmosphere. As more and more people neared Chrom and Olivia, the thin line on Libra's lips quietly fell and the small trace of happiness in his eyes quickly faded. His arms fell before he quietly turned on his heel and made his way out of the cathedral. Ian kept a concerned stare and his eyes followed the stoic figure of the priest before he was swallowed whole by the surrounding crowd. The young tactician soon forgot about Libra's silent departure and went on to enjoy the rest of the day's festivities.

* * *

Tanned colored leaves covered the grass and the white tombstones during that August sunset. The colors from the fading sunset held onto its last bursts of light as the orange sky continued to dim and the autumn wind tugged gently at Libra's robes.

Single tears cupped in Naga's mark rested upon each and every one of the twelve graves while the angelic war monk prayed. His eyes welded shut and his lips spoke without sound. He prayed and he spoke and he cried and he lamented, momentarily talking to his old friends about Prince Chrom's and Lady Olivia's wedding before he turned back to his guilty pleasure of repeated apologizes.

Libra opened his eyes and read the epitaphs on each of the stones tablets for the thousandth time, memorising each word and date in remembrance for his friends' shortened lives.

_Naomi Sinclair Chaillon_

_December 17, 1603 - January 20, 1620_

_Aaron V. Thomas_

_July 10, 1606 - January 20, 1620_

_Adam Lee Connor_

_April 5, 1596 - January 20, 1620_

_Leah J. Marie_

_June 3, 1601 - January 20, 1620_

Libra walked down the aisles looking over his friends and family in a perpetual silence while he handed them blood colored roses to hold. Small petals from each flower laid dormant by their mothers before small gusts of wind eventually carried them away.

Ending the small ritualistic actions given with each visit, Libra finally walked over and knelt down by Naomi's grave and traced his hand over the little etches that made up the stone tablet. Reading the epitaph one more time.

"_Love everyone around you with all you are… and soon the world will love you for all you are." _

He lightly grasped the side of the grave as if it were a lover and gently caressed it. His lips slightly parting before he leaned forward and kissed the top of the stone tablet and gazed for the longest time at Naomi's name. He stood back up and gave his last goodbye for the day and turned around to head for the church when he saw a familiar figure off in the distance.

A young woman with flowing, red hair in a pegasus knight's uniform watched over a grave several hundred meters away. Her hands were held tight to her chest as she too knelt down to give the modest grave some flowers. Libra instantly remembered Cordelia from all those months ago and the frightening injuries she sustained during the last battle of the Plegian conflict. His eyes lingered on the lone speck of red against the verdant hillside as he turned to make his leave, but soon stopped and looked back at the mourning pegasus knight.

Libra stared from the gate of the memorial cemetary and let out a small sigh, feeling the cool autumn air through his nostrils before he slowly made his way to the red haired woman. Cordelia turned around when she heard footsteps and was surprised to find Libra approaching; his hands swinging slightly by his side before he stopped and gave her a small bow.

Libra's head rose from his humble greeting and gave a small but kind smile, "Hello. Miss Cordelia, I presume?"

* * *

Ian sat back and observed his friends as they all gave cheers and clanked mugs of beer to one another before furiously guzzling down the foamy, alcoholic beverages.

The entire group consisted of the Shepherds that made it to the wedding that day. Sully, Stahl, Olivia, and Sumia were cheering Chrom on as he completely downed an entire pint of beer in one sitting. Vaike gave a cocky grin as he brought his jug forward to do the same. Khan Basilio and Flavia had traveled all the way from Regna Ferox to join in on the celebration and drink as they brought their own Feroxi ale. Lon'qu was seen sitting next to Gregor quietly drinking while the larger, more eccentric mercenary boasted about his time in the snowy country.

Kellam was passing out drinks and both Donnel and Nowi had already become a little tipsy as they rocked in their seats with a concerned looking Ricken on the side. Miriel sat in the corner of the room with a notepad and quill in hand as she observed the Shepherd's behavioral interactions. Virion sat at the bar counter with Ian and Lissa while holding a modest glass of wine in his hand. The flowery noble simply shook his head and smiled at the rest of the group before saying, "Ah, wedding day. The day of romance, love, and celebration. When two become one and they consummate their love at the end of it all," he turned to face Ian. "Though I do not believe that will happen at this rate."

"Sultry mind you have there, Virion," Ian took a sip of his drink. "Chrom's never been one for tradition. But I think it's fine. They have the rest of their lives for that."

"Of course," Virion agreed. "But what of poor Olivia?"

"Olivia looks... fine to me," Lissa hiccuped.

Virion smiled kindly and shook his head, "Oh, my dear lady. I oft forget about your lesser years. But even you should understand a young maiden's desire to feel the touch of another's against her skin," he placed his hand on Lissa's.

Lissa became heated and shoved a finger against Virion's nose, "Oh no you don't! You big pervert," she hiccuped again.

Virion leaned back in his chair with a surprised look on his face before he waved his hands in defense and nervously smiled, "Ah, yes. My sincerest apologies, milady."

Ian chuckled, "Your face is red, Lissa."

"Hah?" Lissa turned. "What ish that suppose to mean?"

The tactician smiled, "I think you've had too much to drink."

"Nooo…" Lissa's mouth fell open. "I'm drink the right…" hiccup. "The right amount."

"Really now?"

"Yea!" Lissa shouted before she yanked Ian's drink from his hand. "How much of thish have you had tonight, mister? I betcha drunker than me!" she sniffed the beverage multiple times before demanding. "Hey! What ish this stuff?"

"Water," Ian simply replied.

"Water?" Lissa asked. "Thash no fun!"

Ian laughed, "Isn't it? Because I'm having fun watching you all."

"We need to get you a drink!" she pointed accusingly before yelling over the counter. "Bartender! We needa drink here, pronto!"

"...That won't be necessary," Ian sweated before he turned to the bartender and waved the order off.

"Aww!" Lissa moaned. "You're no fun!"

"And you're drunk," Ian smiled before setting his drink to the side. "Remember now, I'm a tactician. And a tactician must always maintain a clear head at all times," he then leaned forward and softly whispered into Lissa's ear. "And speaking of clear heads, how about I bring you back to your room for the night?"

Lissa's crimson colored face broke into a grin before she laughed, slapping Ian on the arm when she squealed, "Ahaha, Ian! I didn't know you were such a big pervert too!"

"Taking advantage of the princess while she is intoxicated? Ian, you are aware there are lines that even I wouldn't dare cross?" Virion warned.

"Don't worry," Ian said as he got off his stool. "I'm not going to do anything untoward. I'm just making sure Lissa doesn't drink herself silly and does anything she may regret," Lissa also got out of her seat and began wobbling for the exit.

Virion gave a long-winded sigh, "Very well. But do be careful. I have seen the wrath of Prince Chrom before and I do not wish for it to befall on you, my friend."

"Don't worry," Ian repeated as he turned to Lissa with his hands in his pockets. "Ready to go?"

"Carry me," Lissa beamed.

Ian raised an eyebrow at the young princess as her arms reached for his torso. Virion looked back at Ian with the same quizzical expression but said nothing. The young man sighed while he rolled his eyes and bent forward, "Alright, hop on then."

Lissa climbed aboard the tactician's back and wrapped her arms around his neck as Ian supported the young girl by her legs. Lissa then leaned her head against the back of Ian's neck and purred, "Your back is really warm."

"Must be the drink," Ian replied as they exited the room and walked down the hall. "Knew you were too young."

"Ian, itsh really hoooot. Take my clothes off pleaaase."

"Now you're just being too forward."

* * *

Once Ian had dropped Lissa off at her room and in the care of one of the palace maids to make sure nothing went wrong, he then tried to make his way back to the bar when he began to feel a small migraine.

"Ugh," he grunted as his hand reached up to massage his temple. "Damn it, didn't even have an ounce of alcohol. How on earth am I getting the hangover?" He took a couple more steps down the hallway before he stopped and placed a hand against a wall.

"_Screw it… I'm going back to my room," _Ian turned around and shuffled back where he came and toward his room, the feeling of a throbbing vein pulsing against his forehead.

A soft breeze hit Ian the moment he entered his bedroom. The window was open, showing the palace courtyard and allowing the cool, biting air inside. The chill momentarily alleviated some of Ian's pains as he stumbled into the room and plopped himself onto his bed. His face grimaced and he moaned less out of pain and more in annoyance. Ever since the Shepherds had returned after their victory in Plegia, migraines and other symptom related headaches had become all the more common for the young tactician.

"Ragh…" Ian groaned again, turning and rocking back and forth on his bed before he uncovered one eye and stared at the open doorway letting in some of the light into the shaded bedroom. He gave an annoyed sigh before he begrudgingly got up from his bed and shut the door closed. He shuffled back to his bed and closed his eyes once more as he fell with his back against the mattress.

Propping one arm to cover his eyelids, Ian just laid there in the unlit room; feeling the breeze from his window bite at his neck and cheeks.

"Screw my life…" Ian moaned once again while he tried to control his breathing. The pain grew a little more intense as it pounded against his skull. The long forgotten symbols on his back and right hand were beginning to burn. The small rest did little to take away the throbbing torches.

"Hah… huh… hah… huh…" Ian took in long, deep breaths through his nose and exhaled through his mouth, trying to put most of his attention on that small exercise before it became a steady rhythm.

Eventually the pain in his head died away and was replaced by the weight of heavy eyes. His stomach then sunk into an abyss…

* * *

_Grass. Soft and green, everflowing as a soft, gentle breeze tugged lightly at their heads. Fresh air filled Ian's lungs while he breathed in the open valley air. The open sky was colored in a brilliant blue as light scatters of clouds moved lazily about the atmosphere. The sun shone down upon him and Ian was warm._

_A woman's voice called for Ian from behind and he cocked his head back yelling out an "Okay." He was crouched down on one knee with an arm using it as a rest; his right hand was pressed against the ground feeling the soft blades of grass tickling at his fingertips. He stared at a stone tablet with words etched upon its surface and Ian ran his hand over the letters._

_The woman's voice called again but this time as a more distant sound, emanating a soft echo as Ian passed over the name on the tombstone with one hand. He slid his fingers over the cold markings and read the deceased's name._

_"Captain…"_

* * *

Sunrays knocked at Ian's eyes as he slowly woke up. Rising up from under his covers, Ian realized that he was all of a sudden shirtless with only a pair of gray sleeping-trousers to keep his decency. The dress shirt, suit, and pants he wore for Chrom's wedding the day before was all thrown haphazardly into a shady corner of the room.

He scratched his head, not remembering a single moment when he had relieved himself of his clothes.

Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, Ian walked over to the open window and guided the amber curtains to the side; breathing in the morning dew as the sound of birds began to sing.

"Chrom's married, huh?" Ian smirked to himself when the revelation hit him. "Lucky, lucky, bastard. Guy is probably sleeping like a baby right now," he ran a hand through his disheveled hair and let out a chuckle, turning back to his room and walked toward his closet.

Once his hands snaked around the metal handles, another thought hit him when he remembered last night's dream. He reached up and grabbed the coat hanger holding a white shirt and thought to himself, "_That was… new. It wasn't even painful this time," _he took the cotton shirt and brought it over his head and snuck his arms through the short sleeves.

Dreams were not always common for the young tactician. Most nights Ian would just simply retire to his bed or cot after long hours of studying past curfew and wake up the next morning ready to begin anew. But every now and then, depending on how tired he was, Ian would sometimes remember what he saw in his unconscious state. More often than not though they were usually jumbled bouts of nonsense that were forgettable within a few minutes. But sometimes on those rare occasions when there was a slight burning sensation in his right hand or back, the same recurring dream involving he and Chrom would appear once again. Ian was always there in that same spot, always committing the same act, and his mind always convincing himself that what was happening was true. That it was real. And always immediately after that Ian would quickly wake up and find himself in a cold, drenched sweat.

Ian pulled his trademark purple coat out of the closet and set it neatly on his bed. He shut the wooden doors and leaned his head against the mahogany wardrobe. Ian closed his eyes and delicately traced his fingers against the closet's little details, trying to recreate the scene he saw in his recent dream.

"Captain… Captain… Captain…" Ian murmured repeatedly while his fingers drummed on the wood. "What else was there?"

What made this dream stand out from the other nonsensical allegory was its sense of tangibility. He could smell the valley air in his nose, felt the grass beneath his boots, the sun shining down on him, touched the stone grave bearing the dead's name.

The name was on the tip of his tongue. He remembered reading it, he remembered saying it.

"C'mon… what were you? Jarod? Jorge? Jack? ...Kyle? Aw, c'mon! I had it!" Ian walked over to his desk, picked up a quill, and leaned back in his chair. He played with the feather with one hand and used his other to stroke his chin; deeply ruminating in thought.

"What was that dream even about?" he thought out loud. "This time I didn't kill Chrom… thank goodness for that. But what the heck was that?" Ian sat up straight in his chair and grabbed some papers before he began to sketch. "A gravestone- Starting with the word "Captain" on it. Green grass, blues skies, trees, some hills… Someone called my name. I look back and see… more grass. Familiar looking grass. As far as the eye can see…"

Ian blinked when he thought, "_It looked… It looked a lot like that field Chrom found me in when I first woke up. Was that where it was?"_ he turned back to his drawing with the badly shaped gravestone and sighed, "_Nuts… I just can't for the life of me remember the name," _Ian continued sitting disappointedly while he just stared out the window. However after several more minutes of perpetual silence, an old idea popped into his head. He turned in his chair and opened up a drawer beneath his desk and pulled out the dusty letter he found back in Plegia all those months ago.

"Ian, huh?" he murmured to himself while skimming the two letters. "Forgot about this guy…" Ian's heart sank when he remembered the reason why he took the badly damaged parchment in the first place; uncertain if it was a clue to his past or if it would actually lead him somewhere. Did these letters even mean anything?

"I've spent so much time with Chrom trying to get this kingdom up and running again that I haven't had any time to work on this," he set the letters back down before he got up to put on his regular clothes. "Well, I've got free time now. Maybe that dream was a clue? Or a reminder to get me off my butt," he buttoned up his coat. "Well, whatever it is, I might as well start looking," he made his bed, opened his bedroom door and walked out. "Whelp, time to start looking for Chrom. Wonder if he's up yet."

* * *

"You're going where?"

"The place where you, Frederick, and Lissa first found me. The place where I was taking a nap on the ground," Ian answered Chrom as they walked by multiple windows in a sunlit hallway.

"What do you think you're going to find there?" Chrom asked.

"No clue," Ian shook his head. "But it makes sense I suppose. If I want to try and get some of my memories back, I'll have to start at the place where it all began."

"Beginning at your roots then," Chrom deduced.

"Something like that," Ian replied.

"Hmm" the prince mused. "It shouldn't take too long. It was about a week's walk to get back to Ylisstol from there. Not too far off the outskirts of Southtown, we could have arrived back quicker if we had horses."

"Why was that?" Ian turned to his friend with an inquisitive look. "Looking back then I thought it was a little strange only one person had a horse to ride. But then I find out later you and Lissa are royals so…" he cocked his head. "Why didn't you two have horses?"

Chrom shrugged, "Beats me. I know how to ride a horse, I've had training when I was a child. But whenever I go to the stables to ride one, Frederick, without fail, would always seem to materialize out of nowhere and tell me no. It's one of the few things he is absolutely adamant about refusing me doing. Heck, he even relented after a couple weeks about you being a Shepherd. About me marrying Olivia. But horses without a doubt is something he will not let me do."

"What?" Ian looked taken aback by Chrom's excuse. "That makes no sense."

"That's what I keep telling Frederick. But he won't let up," Chrom sighed.

"Not even when you're the exalt?" Ian suggested.

Chrom glared, "I'm not exalt. Remember?"

Ian sweated just as they stopped in front of the palace's bar, "Err… right. Forgot about that, sorry."

"It's alright," Chrom waved it off before he crossed his arms. "I know what you mean, but please, just not the title. And no, I haven't talked to him about that yet. We've been too busy with the notes from Emm's old advisors and the wedding."

"Congrats again, by the way," Ian gave a suspecting smirk. "Bet you two retired "early" after the drinking."

Chrom chuckled, "Heh, thanks. And yeah," he chuckled as he faced away. "It was, uh, it was a really good night. Did some stretching with her before going to sleep. We're also going on our honeymoon in a few days. I haven't told Olivia where."

"Will you tell me?"

"Nope," Chrom grinned as he gripped the handles for the bar's door. "Maybe when we come back."

"Come now," Ian protest as Chrom opened the door. "At least give me a hin-" Sounds of snoring and passed out Shepherds broke through the opening of the bar door and Ian and Chrom peered into the foul smelling, alcoholic crypt. The candles that lit up the room had all but extinguished, shrouding the place in a dark and cozy stupor. People covered in alcohol and piss were either slouched over tables or sleeping on the floor; even some of the more reserved Shepherds had decided to crash there for the night.

Ian and Chrom paused while Chrom let out a hesitated remark, "Uh… well, it's uh definitely not here."

Ian pursed his lips, "N-no… I didn't think so."

They continued staring while Chrom scratched the back of his head and Ian rocked on the balls of his feet. "Well, they are going to hate me later," Chrom said before he gripped the handle of the door once more and with all his might gave it a mighty slam. The entire room then exploded with pandemonium.

"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhh!"

"Huh! What?"

"Ow! My head!"

"What just happened!?"

"AAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHH!"

"Hey! Ow! Shut up! Shut up with the damn screaming! Shut the hell up!"

"My ears are ringing!"

"I'm going to murder each and every single one of you!"

"I said shut up!"

"I think I'm going to puke…"

"Oi! Get off me!"

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHADAAAAAPPP!"

* * *

Ian and Chrom walked out onto an open grassy field outside the palace walls with Chrom leading a horse by its reins, a slight breeze adding to the stereotypical farewell scene.

"It's only been a couple hours since you came up with this idea, Ian," Chrom said as the two men came to a stop. "You sure you want to go now?"

"It's been on my mind longer than that, Chrom," Ian replied while slinging a sack over his shoulder. "I've just haven't been actively thinking about it. Plus if this dream is any indication, I'd like to get started on figuring this out right away."

"I know, I know," Chrom said lazily. "But it's the simple thought of you leaving. Even if it is for a couple of days."

"Oh ho," a mischievous smile spread across Ian's lips, "What are you going to miss me? How sweet-"

"No," Chrom deadpanned.

Ian laughed, "Heh, yes you do. You just don't want to admit it."

"Just get on your horse," Chrom rolled his eyes.

"Will do," Ian chuckled before his smile faded when he turned to the stallion. "Right… just get on the horse…"

"Something the matter, Ian?" Chrom asked with an inquisitive look.

"I… uh…" Ian started while rubbing his neck. "I just realized I don't know how to ride a horse."

"What?" Chrom's face fell. "How do you not know how to ride a horse?"

"I just don't alright!" Ian said indignantly. "I've never had to ride a horse before and I don't think I did it before I lost my memories."

"C'mon," Chrom said while reaching for the saddle. "It's not bad. It's just like riding a… hors-"

"Milord!" someone frantically shouted in the background. Ian and Chrom turned around toward the source of the sound and found Frederick furiously sprinting after them as if to warn them that the world was ending. Lissa was seen farther back trying to catch up while waving her arms. "Milord!" Frederick shouted again. "Milord, what do you think you're doing?"

"Frederick," Chrom replied when the great knight came to a halt. "I was just going to show Ian here how to ride a horse."

A look of uncharacteristic fear flashed across Frederick's face before he turned to Ian in horror, "B-but, milord! Surely you should consider this to be a very bad idea!" Lissa finally caught up as she dropped to her knees and struggled to catch her breath.

"C-chrom... don't do this…" she gasped.

"Don't do what?" Ian asked as a look of increasing concern crossed his face. "What's so bad about Chrom riding a horse?"

"You can't ride a horse, milord," Frederick said sternly.

"Why not?" Chrom began to look annoyed.

"Because you can't ride a horse," Lissa stood back up.

"And why not?" Chrom hotly replied.

"Because you can't ride a horse!" Frederick loudly repeated. Ian was surprised by the amount of hostility he felt radiating off of Frederick, even more so that it seemed to be directed at Chrom.

"For the last time. Why the hell no-!"

"Chrom," Lissa started as she tiptoed to reach Chrom's shoulders and deeply gaze into his eyes. "It's because you _can't_ ride a horse."

"You can't, milord," Frederick agreed.

"Chrom," Ian turned to his friend. "Do you… know how to ride a horse?"

"Of course I know how to ride a horse! I just told you I had training when I was younger!" Chrom looked shocked at Ian's apparent betrayal of his trust.

"And was banned ever since," Lissa dejectedly shook her head. "Poor Glory never recovered."

"That was one time!"

"That was _every _time, milord," Frederick corrected as he rolled his eyes. Ian then understood that this wasn't the first time they've had this argument.

Frederick then reached to take the reins from Chrom's hands before the prince furiously rebelled, "Oh no you don't! Not this time! For years I've been banned from riding horses, but not this time! This time I'm going to teach Ian how to ride and you can't stop me!" he made for the saddle and quickly scrambled on.

"Milord, don't!" Frederick's eyes widened as he reached forward.

"Chrom, you're acting like a child!" Lissa screamed.

"Uh… Chrom?" Ian began before Chrom roughly yanked at the horse's reins, pulling it every which way and violently kicking the horse at its sides.

The horse jumped when Chrom screamed into its ear, "Hiyah! Go! Go! Goooooo-!" whinnying, the horse stood up on its hind legs and threatened to punch Ian in the face as the tactician was shock frozen in horror. The horse violently knocked Ian to the side with the power of a charging knight and then threw Chrom off it as it buckled forward. Chrom yelled before he smashed into the ground and the stallion made its escape while crying off into the distance.

Lissa ran over to Ian and tried to help him back up, "Ian! Are you alright?"

"Ow…" Ian moaned. "I was just literally ran over by a horse…"

Lissa checked over Ian's body for any fractures or bruising, "Well… nothing seems to be broken. How do you feel?"

"Like I was just ran over by a horse…" Ian sarcastically groaned.

Frederick sighed while he crossed his arms and shook his head. "Milord, why you trying to teach Ian how to ride a horse?"

"Ugh…" Chrom moaned as he lied face first in the dirt.

"I think the place where you guys first found me may be a clue to getting my memories back," Ian winced as Lissa brought his arm over her shoulder. "Chrom said a horse may help."

Frederick let out another long winded sigh and shook his head, "You should have asked me to teach you," he about faced and started walking back towards the castle. "Once you recover we will begin the lessons immediately. Prince Chrom, I want you to recover that horse as soon as you get back to your feet," he shook his head in shame. "Honestly, milord."

Chrom groaned, "...But I'm the exalt."

"No you're not," Lissa said flatly as she carried a limping Ian with her. "C'mon, Ian. Let's get you some ice for those bruises."

Chrom looked up at his friend's retreating figures as he continued to lie in the dirt, his body sore and he miserably moaned.

"Ow…"

* * *

Later that evening in a red sunset filled bedroom, a lone figure began setting up paints, a canvas, and a chair to sit. Libra held a paint palette in one hand and a brush with another. Standing by his small bed and a window overlooking the monastery's vast expanse of land, Libra looked at an open book on his sill and read out the chapter title.

_Chapter 1: The Basics and Joys of Painting_

He let out a cool, easy breath and dipped his brush in a black smudge of paint while looking at the sun's retreat and leaned forward. The sounds of bristles scratching against canvas began and continued on long past twilight as the skies eventually eased into night.

* * *

**I know it's not a whole lot in terms of length and story content for the amount of time I've made you all wait for, and for that I apologize. I originally planned to have two additional scenes in this chapter what with Frederick teaching Ian and Chrom how to ride horses and something else after that. But I decided to just add it in the next chapter. Fortunately this seems to set up Chapter 9 pretty nicely with the plans I've had with these additional scenes. You'll see when it comes up. Again, thank you all for reading and any thoughts are appreciated. I hope to see you guys next time. **


	10. Chapter 9: Return

**Hello, everybody! I am back and I am not dead. Finally after so long I have uploaded another chapter. Apologies for taking so long, life got in the way and I had little time to write, so these past couple have weeks has been me trying to get back into the swing of things. But now that I have some breathing room, I should be able to get back to my uploading schedule of a chapter per month, two if I'm really diligent. Anyways, sorry for the long wait and I hope you guys enjoy. **

* * *

**Chapter 9: Return**

"Alright, you two. Do you have everything in check?" Frederick asked Ian and Chrom with the two men standing by their horses.

"Check," Ian answered while he tried to suppress a laugh, hiding his amusement.

"Check," Chrom said with a bit more chaff, his heavy armor creaking under his shifting weight. He looked at Ian with an annoyed scowl, "Though why am I the only one that has to wear this?"

"For your protection, milord," Frederick answered matter of factly with his hands at the small of his back.

"And what about the pillows? Why on earth do I have pillows on my armor?"

"To protect everyone else," Frederick said again simply.

"Don't you think this is going a little bit overboard though? Not even just a little?" Chrom tugged at his neck piece while droplets of sweat trickling down his face. "It's worst than a sauna in here!"

"I fear this may not be enough…"

"I have never seen you have so little faith in Chrom before, Frederick," Ian said with mild astonishment. "Normally I see you building him up, but now it just seems like you expect him to fall."

Frederick sighed, "If you had seen the amount of damage he caused when he was younger, you would too."

"Worst than when he is training with Falchion?"

"Far, far more worse."

"I'm right here, you know!" Chrom protested as he struggled to move. "My riding skills are not that bad!"

Frederick sighed once more before he merely shook his head in woe, "...We will see very soon," he then walked over to his own mount.

With Frederick checking over the necessary equipment for his horse, Edna, who was unarmored and revealing her shining auburn coat, Ian nudged Chrom's fluffy metal arm and whispered, "Hey, how was the honeymoon?"

"Huh? Oh, it was good. We went south, down to the beach."

"The beach, huh? Not bad, makes sense around this time of year too."

"Yep. Warm sand. Cool, beautiful oceans. Ran into one of the Anna shopkeepers there and got us some swimsuits. Olivia was hesitant to put them on at first."

"Really now? That's a little unexpected, what with her… normal clothing choice and all."

"Yeah. But once she did, everything was a blast from there. You should see the way she blushes, I still can't get over that."

"Any funny business?" Ian asked with a grin.

Chrom flushed with a light shade of pink but laughed it off before looking away, scratching the back of his head, "Yeah, I guess you can say there was."

Ian gave Chrom a light punch on the shoulder, causing both men to begin another round of laughs.

After several minutes the two calmed down and Ian paused, a slight epiphany forming in his head before he asked, "Wait, so you said you went south, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Which part of south?"

Chrom mused for a second, "Um… I think it was somewhere near Southtown?"

Ian's mouth slowly gaped open in disbelief, "Southtown?"

"What's wrong?"

"You idiot. That's where I was planning to go originally! That's why I've been taking riding lessons just to get there-"

"Ahem."

Chrom and Ian turned to find Frederick bringing his hand down from his interruptive cough with Edna's reins in the other. The skin on his forehead creased showing his already growing skepticism before he commenced the lesson, "Now before we begin, I would like to ask you two: What is the most important thing to know about learning to ride a horse?"

"That horses are living beings like humans and need to be treated with respect?" Chrom guessed.

"There's something between us all?" Ian asked. "Something that keeps man and horse together… Like… invisible ties, connectin-"

"That learning to ride a horse requires a tremendous amount of practice and takes an extremely long time to master. It is not something you can learn overnight and will definitely take months to consistently perform the very basics," Frederick deadpanned.

"Oh."

The great knight gave another long winded sigh, and then another after that, even more than what was necessary before motioning to the leather seat on Edna's back, "The saddle is one of many, but definitely the most important tool required to horseback riding. The primary purpose for the saddle simply is to ensure that the rider is both comfortable and stable when riding. But just like people… As milord aptly put it, all horses come in different sizes and thus all saddles must be adjusted for that horse's individual growth," he pointed to Chrom's and Ian's respected steeds. "Adjustments have already been made for those two, but over time with your training their saddles will also need to be fixed to adjust to their growing size. I will teach you how later."

He then turned to Edna and motioned her to the side so only her left flank was showing, "When mounting your horse, traditionally you will want to mount from the left side. Do this calmly, milord, so to make sure it is aware of your presence. Do you understand, milord?"

"Yes, Frederick. I understand," Chrom said with a wooden face. Ian snickered.

"Good. Now gently take the reins in your left hand," Frederick brought up his hand and then slowly grasped the rope. "And with your right hand, turn the stirrup," he took the metal supports for the rider's feet and rotated them outwards. "So you can now mount. Place your left foot in the stirrup and then swing your right foot over the horse. Gently sit down in the saddle."

Frederick turned to Chrom with a telling frown, "Remember, milord. Do not pull the reins at all while you are mounting your horse or you will hurt and frighten it. Never under any circumstances."

"Yes, Frederick, I understand."

"Do you pull the reins while mounting your horse?"

"No, Frederick."

"Which side do approach your horse before mounting?"

"The left side."

"How?"

"Calmly."

"Which hand do you take the reins?"

"Left."

"Which hand do you grab the stirrup?"

"Right."

"Which foot do you put in the stirrup first?"

"Left."

"Which leg do you swing-?"

"How come you're not asking Ian any of these questions? He's also learning how to ride too."

Frederick's brows lowered and he pursed his lips before turning to the tactician, "Which leg do you swing over the horse?"

"Right leg, Frederick."

"Good," Frederick looked satisfied. "Now we can go into practice. I want you two to follow the steps I just told you and put them to use. Turn to your horses."

Chrom gave Ian a sheepish look that colored vexation and Ian simply shrugged. The two men looked at their respected horses and followed Frederick's instructions to the letter. Very soon they found themselves sitting on top, slightly wobbling, but nonetheless on top.

"Hey! Look at that! I'm on a horse!" Chrom exclaimed in excitement.

"Me too!" Ian looked just as ecstatic. "This feels way more uncomfortable than I thought it would be but it works!"

"Remember when riding to use your legs to balance yourself. Your legs should be parallel to your body and must be straight at all times. Tighten your grip to maintain stability."

"You know, this ain't so bad," Ian laughed.

"See, Frederick? I told you I can ride a horse! You just had to give me the chance," Chrom said with the biggest grin on his face.

Frederick closed his eyes and gave a sigh that was halfway between relief and worry, "Yes, it looks like you may be right, milord. It would appear the extent of my fears weren't as necessary as I had originally thought," he still looked up at Chrom with a hint of apprehension. "But now I'll teach you how to dismount."

Ian and Chrom turned with slightly crestfallen looks on their faces.

"To dismount, stand up with your feet still placed in the stirrups and be careful to maintain your balance. Remove your right foot and swing it over the horse and slowly let yourself down. Again, do not pull on the reins."

"Do we have to take our right foot out first? What if we want to dismount on the right side instead?" Ian asked.

"Then do the opposite. Left out and then toward right."

"I'm going to try that then," Chrom said as he attempted to pull at his left leg but paused halfway when he felt the stirrup tugging back at his foot. "_What the? What are you stuck on? C'mon, let go," _Chrom yanked harder and harder, kicking his foot back and trying to fight at the invisible force that kept his boot in place. His horse became edgy and just as magically as it started, Chrom's foot suddenly came loose and the world tumbled; the prince panicked when he fell and tried to reach for anything to catch himself on.

The horse screamed when it's reins were dragged to the floor.

Ian and Frederick turned with eyes wide at the raging stallion and the knight instinctively backed away. Ian was not so lucky as he found himself only halfway through his dismount, one leg awkwardly dangling in the air when Chrom's horse spun like a murderous whirlwind and dragging the prince along with it.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

"Chrom! Wait! Wai-!" Ian screamed before Chrom's rotating legs kicked at Ian's horse and spooked the beast. It stood up on its hind legs and Ian fell. And just like his friend before, tried to grab onto something, anything to stop his fall.

Very soon there were two panicking horses and twice the men being dragged across the grassy field. Frederick just stood back with the most dumbfounded look on his face and a facepalm to accompany it.

Eventually the horses ran off screaming, leaving Ian and Chrom face planted in the dirt with sores and bruises all over.

"I don't think… the armor worked..." Chrom moaned.

"Ah… ah… ah... damn it… aw… crap… frick… ah... screw my life…" Ian rolled around clutching his stomach.

Frederick sighed, surprisingly unconcerned at his lord's potentially injuries, "I'll be back with a healer," he turned on his heel and made for the castle, mumbling under his breath to maybe bring Lissa and Sumia along next lesson.

Ian painfully opened one of his locked eyes and grunted through his bared teeth, "I hate you Chrom…"

"I'm sorry…"

"No, screw you... I'd be there by now if it weren't for you…"

* * *

Outside the local monastery on the outskirts of a nearby village, the green leaves of the summer season had slowly lost their color and their fruitful brilliance; though still beautiful, the gradual transition in the pigmentation transformed the once verdant saturation into an audacious yellow which would soon brown and wither away.

That morning Libra had finally put down his brush to review his work. There dusked in a solemn autumnal glow, the coated canvas displayed an array of faded iridescent hues. A winding path blanketed with crimson petals stretched beyond the painting and through a solitary and lonesome forest. The few trees in the forefront of the picture were enthralled with tangling green and yellow vines, following along the trail before multiplying into the background until there was nothing but. The sky was charged with amber and overtook everything in the forest, hiding nothing but the shade. A lone woman in a white dress walked along the winding path with her back turned, a small basket in hand.

Every detail was so masterfully crafted down to every leaf and petal. And yet despite the painting's brilliance, it had an air of melancholy, as with so many of his other works. And it was often this same melancholy that people at the monastery had told Libra that his artwork was cold, that it lacked both life and soul.

No matter how many bright colors or the amount of soul he felt he put into his work, they always ended up the same. There was always a feeling of loneliness in his art: a singular person in a large and almost suffocating world. A forest, an ocean, the sky, a cliff, a desert, a field. All places teeming with new frontiers and beginnings, but also of perpetual restlessness. It didn't matter how open or vibrant the picture, it always ended the same.

The fall forest was still on its stand when Libra left to help the other priests perform morning communion.

It was ritual every morning of every day. Prayer, thanks, communion, scripture, and ceremony. But with Sunday, the given day of the week for mass prayer for the people in the church's surrounding village, there was an addition for teaching. Normally seeing hundreds of believers all praising the glory of Naga brought a smile to Libra's face, but ever since the Plegian conflict, such sights had lost their luster. Individual faces all blurred into one, sounds and voices indistinguishable, time dragging its feet.

It wasn't that much different to the time when he had first arrived at the monastery all those years ago...

* * *

_Snip..._

_Gray. Dark. And cold. All words that described the young boy's first steps in that whited sanctuary..._

_Snap..._

_All words that described his life. _

"_... from morning until dusk we pray. We worship. We fast. It is only through physical punishment that our sins will be forgiven. You will do well to remember that, Libra."_

_The young boy said nothing. _

"_Your future here is certain, unlike at that orphanage. If you commit yourself completely to the glory and grace of Naga, you will find salvation. But until then this will be your new home," the monk with the tonsure haircut turned and stopped. "Your new family." _

_The long haired boy looked up with empty eyes before the monk continued. _

"_Come. Today marks a new day. Sit in the chair."_

_Libra stared at the hard, wooden stool, and whether through imagination or reality, his eyes lowered onto dried blood stains. He walked forward, touching the back of his neck through his golden hair before sitting down. The world and her senses became hazy, and there was the snapping of scissors._

_...Ssss…_

* * *

Libra's hand reached up and slid over the scar on the back of his neck. Such days of rigidity and bleakness had long disappeared from the monastery walls ever since young Emmeryn had come to be exalt. There was an emphasis on love not punishment. On good works for others, not self. And while the woman's teachings did not change when her younger brother took the throne, Libra's world had become just like before: Cold and dark, with only painting, prayer, and self-induced punishment as his remedy.

His hand slid down, feeling the destroyed skin like mountainous crevices from the thorny lashes criss-crossing his back. None of the other priests knew of Libra's self-persecution because he almost always spent his days in his room.

Those that did enter simply assumed the red splots on the floor were paint.

However long mass lasted, Libra did not know. But once the worshippers left their seats and exited the building, so did Libra; following his own desolate ritual from several months past before two standing figures at the door turned.

"Excuse me," a crestfallen Libra said.

The two people gave each other a quick glance before one of them spoke up, "Libra, there is someone here that would like to speak with you."

Libra brought up his head and saw to his left the bishop of the church, a near balding man with white flowing robes before switching his gaze to the right. His eyes slowly widened in shock at the familiar sight.

Maribelle gave a courteous smile before tilting her head forward and giving a small bow, "A pleasure to see you again, Libra."

"Maribelle?" he asked.

"Madam Maribelle is in need of one of our services. She will be going on a long trip in regards to her judicial studies and has requested that a priest accompany her along the way."

"A priest?"

"While a mercenary or guard from my home villa would have been proficient enough, I've also inquired that a religious presence may be just as beneficial, especially in times of emotional strife. And so I have come here, in search of someone capable of giving such guidance."

"Her travels will take her all over Ylisse and occasionally into Regna Ferox," the bishop said. "And so she has also asked if someone with combat experience may also be present," his eyes gave a knowing twinkle. "And since you are the only person here that fits that description, the task will have to fall to you."

Libra turned to Maribelle with a still somber look and asked, "When will the trip begin?"

"I will be needed in Belma to the north in one week's time. So I suggest leaving as soon as possible, if you would be so kind."

The war monk switched his gaze between the two people before closing his eyes and giving a dejected sigh, "I will pack my things, give me just a moment."

"Thank you, Libra. I will tell the others of your departure and have them help in the packing," the bishop gave a quick blessing to the two and walked out the door.

Libra made to follow but was stopped by the young noble when she grabbed his arm, "Thank you again, Libra. I apologize for my impetuous request, but… I've wanted to make sure, are you alright?"

The monk paused with a second of hesitation before giving a small smile, "Of course. I was not expecting to go on a trip so suddenly, but it will be an honor to-"

"That's not what I meant."

Libra stopped again, still maintaining his smile but even then, the dark presence enveloping him could not hide behind the facial masquerade. He fidgeted his feet for a bit before he touched the back of his neck, "I am… recovering. It will take some time but… some time outdoors may do me some good."

Maribelle pursed her lips, "That is what I am hoping for."

Libra nodded, smiling a final time before turning to the brightly lit glow from the church's open doors and took in a deep breath. Though he wished to remain alone, the idea of a trip outside the sepulchral walls excited him somewhat. Anything new was preferred.

"Excuse me, give me just a moment."

He walked outside.

"_Today marks a new day."_

* * *

"Chrom! No, wait! Stop! Stoooooop!"

"Get out of the way, Ian! Get out of the way!"

"Oh shiiiiiiiiiiiii-!"

Lissa, Olivia, and Sumia watched from a distance at the two struggling men attempt the trot at Frederick's little horse training session. It had been roughly three months of nonstop horseback riding for Ian and Chrom where their rears were constantly sore and every single bone in their body had been broken at least four times thus far. Sully, Stahl, and Virion had come to help teach, given their experience, but even they had trouble with the fatally erroneous prince.

Lissa got up from the picnic blanket for the seventh time that day with an exhausted sigh, "Ugh, I just sat down two minutes ago. I want to finish eating my food too, you know!"

"At least you're getting a lot of practice in, Lissa," Sumia teased. "Now it only takes you five minutes to heal multiple broken bones."

That didn't stop the princess from muttering to herself about how hungry she was and stupid older brothers.

Olivia smiled watching her now sister-in-law giving her husband and Ian another angry lecture about safety and gentleness with the horses, but faltered a little when the princess began whacking Chrom in the side of the head with her staff until Stahl and Sully had to pull the young girl off him.

The queen's hands instinctively went to touch her stomach which was the size of a small and barely noticeable bump. An action she noticed that had been happening whenever she became worried.

"Which is almost always," Sumia joked whenever they sat down to watch Frederick teach Chrom and Ian. Another activity the two women had been doing as of late.

"...I don't think she appreciates the practice anymore," Olivia murmured.

Sumia watched as well now that Lissa had calmed down somewhat and had begun healing Ian first as always, "No, I guess not. It is amazing though how far she has grown as a healer. Those two may have some permanent injuries with how many bones they've broken, but she is becoming an expert."

"You should get some practice in too. Isn't healing a part of pegasus knight training?"

Sumia laughed, "Oh no, Frederick won't let me. Says it's too dangerous, doesn't want anything affecting the baby," she rubbed her own stomach. "Even the smallest things he worries about, like walking, getting out of bed, cooking, cleaning. I mean I still do those things but... he's just as protective- No, even more protective about the baby than he is with Chrom."

"That must be quite a surprise."

"It is actually, haha!"

The two laughed as they watched Frederick off in the distance rubbing his eyes with wearied fatigue. He did stop however when he saw his wife and to be born child and smiled, giving a tired but grateful wave.

Sumia beamed and waved back.

After several moments Olivia asked, "So… what have you been doing in your free time?"

The young pegasus knight paused, "Reading. I've had so many books to read while we were at war with Plegia but I never had the time… I'm not used to having so much time."

"It's quite new, isn't it? There's so much to do but at the same time there's not. It does become a bit boring after a while."

"Indeed," Sumia agreed. "So what have you been doing all this time?"

"Nothing really," the pink haired queen sadly admitted. "I've been told that dancing during pregnancy may harm the baby if I'm not careful. So they told me to just quit it for now."

"That's a shame, you love dancing."

"Yes," Olivia said disappointedly but smirked a little. "Chrom, whenever he's not recovering from his injuries would lock the doors to our bedroom and dance with me. Slowly of course. And it is becoming more common since he is getting a little bit better, but… I don't want to bother him when he should be resting."

"That's sweet of him," Sumia would have swooned in a previous time and if she weren't married. "Well, have you tried other things?"

"Well… normally in the past when I'm injured or unable to dance, I'd help with the chores like cooking and washing clothes. But… I keep forgetting that I am a queen now and not some dancer for a traveling theater group anymore. The maids and servants refuse to let me help them with any work, not especially with this," Olivia looked at her slightly protruded belly.

"Hmm."

"My pardons, miladies. But I couldn't help but overhear your dilemma. May I make a suggestion?"

The two women looked up and were surprised to find Virion standing before them with his hands on his hips and the sun striking a halo from the back of his head.

The view made him seem more radiant than was absolutely necessary.

"Virion? What are you doing here?" Sumia asked.

The proud archer bowed to Olivia, "My humblest apologies, milady. While watching your husband and his tactician recover from their injuries for the umpteenth time today, I merely came here to assure you that he is doing just fine."

Olivia gave a weak smile, "T-thank you, Virion. I appreciate the concern. But I know Chrom, and a couple broken bones won't stop my husband," her face brightened when she added, pointing a finger upwards. "Oh! And he also doesn't like it when people are too formal with him, so you shouldn't be so formal with me."

Virion bowed again, "Of course, Olivia."

"So what was your suggestion?" Sumia asked again.

"I am glad you asked," the man almost laughed before pulling out his steel and silver bow. He knocked an arrow back and pulled at the string, pointing it toward the heavens with an incredibly ridiculous pose, "Archery, my fair lady! The sport of gentlemen and gentlewomen alike! There are very few things in this world that matches the speed, the grace, the precision, the strength, and beauty that is this art!" he aimed back down and toward the valley before letting go, a flashing swish sounded before the arrow disappeared off in the distance.

Sumia and Olivia craned their heads to see where the shot went but to no avail. Virion continued, "You have seen my art in previous battles, but it acts as a leisurely pastime as well. Just simple target practice to hone one's aim. It is also incredibly safe for an alluring woman such as yourself bearing a beautiful child."

Olivia and Sumia made to speak when a third voice popped in, "You're not flirting with them, are you, Virion? Chrom will have your head if he finds out."

The cravat wearing Shepherd jumped in surprise at the mystery man's voice, but calmed down once Kellem came into view, "Kellem! I had no idea! Why, you gave me quite the fright! How long were you standing there?"

The orange armored knight droned, "I've been here, Virion. This entire time. Like I've always been. Just like you guys."

"Oh…"

Olivia thought for a moment about Virion's proposal. Archery had its quirks and it did seem interesting to attack things from afar. During the war with Plegia, despite the fact she was only there for the latter half of it, fighting with a sword was a risky move for her. When she fought off the giant of a soldier to protect Chrom, she only got lucky by catching the fighter off guard. When she rushed the artillery mages with the others, it was only because Frederick was there watching her that she wasn't badly hurt, even if it was because he didn't trust her at the time.

And even though they weren't in a conflict and she was pregnant with Chrom's child, learning a new craft such as archery wasn't exactly a bad idea. She could get that exercise from the lack of dancing she needed and it was something for her to do besides watch her husband hurt himself multiple times a day. She did enjoy watching Chrom learn and his excitement whenever he got something right, there was no mistaking that, but it was that majority of the time where he would become badly injured that frightened her.

It was hard watching the person you loved hurt themselves day in and day out.

Plus archery was a relatively "safe" sport.

Sumia looked at her friend contemplating over the idea and couldn't help but ask, "You're thinking about doing it, aren't you?"

"Well, um… archery does sound kinda fun. Maybe that'll be the thing that will help pass the time?"

Sumia smiled, showing her support, "I say go for it! It sounds like it'll be fun."

Olivia nodded, "It does. Say, why don't you and I learn together?"

"Oh no, no, no. That might be a bad idea. I'm the girl that keeps tripping on her own boots even on flat ground. Plus arrows and pegasus knights don't exactly mix."

"Are you sure? I don't want to learn by myself."

"Positive."

Virion gave another hearty laugh as he straightened his posture, "Fear not, fair Olivia! For I am Virion, the archest of archers! I assure you that you will be able to hit even the smallest of targets at almost a hundred meters given you take the time and practice. I will even give you some of my own secrets to aid you."

Olivia thought for another moment, "Well…"

"Come. As you said, it will be fun, no?"

Kellem rolled his eyes at the archer's persistent invite.

Finally Olivia gave a soft giggle, "Oh, alright then. I'll learn. But no flirting, okay?"

"I would never dream of it."

Olivia got up from the picnic cloth and walked over to Chrom, who was still in a daze and muttering in slight pain, "Chrom, honey? Virion said he would be teaching me how to use a bow, I'll be taking archery lessons to pass the time instead of dancing until the baby is born. Is that alright with you?"

"Huh?" Chrom groaned.

Virion grinned, "Excellent! We shall begin our lessons immediately! Fear not, Lord Chrom. Your wife will be safe with me! Come, sweet Olivia!"

"Huh? W-wait! I don't think that was his answer! Virion! Wait!"

Chrom continued rolling on the ground still trying to figure out what was going on. His eyes blasted open when he finally realized the situation, "Lissa! Heal me now! Virion is taking my wife!"

"You will wait your turn until Ian is finished healing, mister! It's your fault I still didn't get to eat my lunch."

Chrom gasped in horror before struggling to get up. He almost accomplished the herculean feat when he felt a terrible soreness in his side, causing him to fall back down to the floor. He turned to Frederick who had a glazed look in his eye, "Frederick! Please, go after him!"

Frederick looked at Chrom then over to his wife. Sumia merely just gave a shrug and the great knight sighed, not even bothering to take his horse and followed after the two, "Yes, milord…"

* * *

It had been over a year since the end of the Plegian conflict that February afternoon. The month was almost over with a small celebration regarding Ian's twenty-first birthday, which consisted of cake and a party at the Shepherd's barracks. It had been about a year and a half since the tactician's meeting with his fellow Shepherd and best friend Chrom.

The snow was thawing and conditions were safe to begin riding practice again.

Ian rode on Cinis and Chrom on Survivor, the two horses that endured the two student's tedious training since the very beginning; accidents, broken bones, and all.

Cinis was a dark grey stallion with a weary eye and a hide so used to being rammed into that any amount of pain that would have scared off a normal horse was easily ignorable by the large steed. He was named not for his dark texture, but for the white diamond emblem being adorned on his temple. Ian thought it fitting, since it matched his own hair color; a color people often said was similar to ash.

Survivor was also just as built and with a hide just as strong. She had a chestnut colored coat with white markings on all four legs right above the hoofs. She was named around the same time as Cinis, within the fifth month of training in December when the snow was too dangerous to ride on. It was not hard to understand why her name was that way.

Frederick was not there that morning and had finally trusted the two men to ride alone now that Chrom no longer got into any riding accidents… as much anymore. There was a significant change in Chrom's behavior when Olivia left to get archery lessons. As his wife improved in aim so did he; he wanted to put as much dedication to prove himself a better man by learning to ride. And at night that determination increased when he danced with her in their room, even with the eventual decline due to her pregnancy.

Though she did seem slightly more irritable than he was used to, it only furthered to increase his dedication to learning.

Ian breathed in the fading winter air and exhaled, "Feels good to be riding again, doesn't it?"

"It does," Chrom agreed, stroking Survivor's mane affectionately.

"It's been a long time coming. All those months of training, now it feels so natural to sit in this seat again."

"Yeah."

Ian took in another breath and brought his hands behind his head, "So, the baby is expected soon. You must be excited."

Chrom nodded, "I am. Olivia and I have been thinking up names as of late, but it's hard to know which one is the right one to choose. We don't even know if it's going to be a boy or a girl. We made up a list for both… but as I said, we don't know which one would be the right one."

"Can I hear some examples?"

The royal scratched his head for a bit, "Well, uh… for a boy we came up with Avon, Cohen, Lucas, Levi, Leon… Chrom Jr…"

"Pfffttt! Seriously?"

"Hey! It was Olivia's idea, alright? She thought it would be cute."

"Itty bitty Cwom Junya. Off to sev da day."

"Shut up, alright?" Chrom's face turned flushed. "I told her no… Err, in my head I did. But we're not naming him Chrom Jr."

"Buh Papa."

"Shut up."

Ian guffawed, covering his mouth in his laughter with tears running from his eyes. Chrom waited for his friend to finish laughing at his expense before he continued, "As for a girl's name, we thought up-"

"Olivia Jr!"

"Stop it! You're not helping. And... would junior even work for a girl?"

"I… I actually have no idea. I just thought it would be funny."

Chrom shook his head and facepalmed while Ian stroked his chin, deeply contemplating if the name could be done, "Anyways," Chrom started again. "If it's a girl, we thought up names like Anissa, Eve, Suzuna, Lydia, Lyn, Lillian… Leona…"

"You're really fixated on the letter 'L', aren't you?"

"I just…" Chrom started. "Have you ever tried to name something before but you wanted to use a certain letter? And I don't know, but for some reason I want my child to start with the letter 'L' in their name."

"Is it your favorite letter?"

"Not exactly. I mean it's a good letter and all, but I just can't get the thought out of my head."

"Could be because of Lissa, then? Her name starts with an 'L'. Maybe you see your younger sister as someone of endearment and you see the same for your baby?"

Chrom thought hard about it for a moment but gave a noncommittal, "Maybe…"

Ian slowly nodded and tried to come up with other reasons. Chrom in his experience never really focused on the small stuff too often. And in all honesty he always seemed to rush off in his endeavors before thinking at all; a trait that was annoying at times but was something that made him who he was.

So seeing him focus on something so small like the letter 'L' confused Ian. But that was when it hit him.

"It's… about your father then. Isn't it, Chrom?"

Chrom turned with a stunned look in his eyes, "What?"

Ian bit his lip, unsure if he was crossing some sort of line by bringing up Chrom's father. But if this was the case, then it was something they'd have to address immediately, especially with the baby coming soon. A name was something someone had to live with forever, and he wanted to make sure if Chrom was making the right decision. L or no L.

"Well, you once told me about your father, the exalt fifteen years ago. I believe you said his name was Liam and his name starts with the letter "L." If it's not your favorite letter and if it's not Lissa, then a potential cause for your fascination may be because of him."

The prince shook his head, "That makes no sense. Why would I pick a name because of- Woah! Hold there, Survivor."

Ian stretched out his hand to catch his friend in case he fell over, but retracted when Chrom signaled that he was fine. The tactician shook his head, "Alright then, but think about it this way: You said your father had an entire generation of Ylisseans citizens killed in the war and then some. That he died when you were very young and you had little to remember him by except for being hated by his own people."

"Alright…" the royal slowly nodded.

"What if the reason why you're so fixated on the letter 'L' is because subconsciously you're thinking about him? You wanted to get to know him, to be proud of him, but you could never make those memories. And so, you want to make those memories with your child. Your child whose name would start with the letter 'L'."

Chrom stared for a moment but then went into a deep, contemplative thought. It was after a long, indefinite amount of time before he countered, "That's a bit of a stretch, don't you think?"

Ian played with Cinis' reins for a bit as he answered, "I'm no philosopher or theorist, I leave that stuff to Miriel. But if it is true, then is this a choice you're willing to make?"

Chrom thought again, replaying Ian's words in his head over and over again. While true he wanted to know his father, that was only in the past. His child was someone else, not him. They would have their own name, their own life, their own choices. What Liam was shouldn't dictate who they will be, certainly not a name and certainly not some measly letter.

He was not going to shy away from that.

"Who my father was means nothing. My child won't be barred from a letter or a name because of him. They will be their own person."

"Are you sure?" Ian asked, a little worried.

"I'm sure. Absolutely. One hundred percent."

Ian chuckled at his friend's conviction, "Alright then, letter 'L' it is then."

Chrom nodded, "It has to be something that fits, that has meaning. Something strong but kind, like Emmeryn."

"People normally associate the light with strength and kindness. We could find something along those lines," Ian suggested.

The prince nodded, "Alright then. What names are there?"

Ian thought for a minute, "Well, if I remember correctly, the root word for light is "Lux" in the ancient tongue. How does the name Lux sound?"

"Maybe. Sounds like a boy's name. Lucas could also work pretty well, and that's a name we've thought about using," Chrom suggested.

Ian nodded, "Alright then, we have some ideas. How about a name for a girl?"

"Hmm," Chrom mumbled, lining his finger against his lips. "Light… Lucy... Luna…"

"Lucretia… Lucile… Lina…"

"Lo… Luke… uh... Lecky... um…"

"Lucette… Lucia... Luc… Wait... I think I got one."

"What?" Chrom asked.

Ian turned to his friend and lightly suggested.

"How about…?"

* * *

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!"

Chrom was anchored in his seat next to Olivia as she clamped down on his hand in an overwhelming vice grip. Her entire face was covered in sweat as the contractions just kept coming and coming, closer and closer. Chrom himself was doubled over in his seat with his face in excruciating pain.

Olivia moaned, "Why are you complaining? I'm the one having a baby here! Ah! Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!"

"I'm sorry," Chrom apologized, feeling the bones in his fingers continually being crushed by the second. "But you're smashing my fingers. If you could just-"

"Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!"

"AAARRRGGGHHH! My hand! My hand! My hand! Olivia, you're crushing my hand!"

* * *

Ian, Lissa, Sumia, Frederick, and most of the rest of the Shepherds sat in the hallway outside the royal bedroom. Screams from both Olivia and Chrom all mixed into one, creating an atmosphere that made one feel as if they were listening to the anguished cries of those in the very depths of hell. It was a nerve wracking experience to say the least.

Ian stared at the door with the most perplexed expression on his face, "It's been going on for at least an hour now. What on earth is going on in there? Why is Chrom screaming?"

"It sounds awful in there," Lissa grimaced, her fingernails digging deep into the bottom her seat. "Like something out of a horror story!"

Sumia peered down on her bloated stomach and rubbed it with worry, "Is that going to be me soon?"

Frederick held his wife's hand in reassurance, "Don't worry, Sumia. Everything will be fine. I will be by your side when your time comes."

"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!"

"Olivia! My hand! My hand! My hand!"

"...With gauntlets on, of course," the great knight muttered to himself.

"She must have quite a grip in there," Sully said in amazement. "I'm surprised after all this time she hasn't accidentally yanked out Chrom's di-"

"Sully," Stahl interrupted.

"What?"

The screaming continued and Ian shook his head, his knuckles pressed against his jaw, "Okay, yep, alright. I think I've decided now. I'm not having kids."

"Amen to that, Bubbles," Gaius said, unwrapping another lollipop before stuffing it into his mouth. "Way too much trouble."

More frantic movement happened inside the bedroom as the midwife and nurses continued to give Olivia instructions.

Virion calmly flipped through a page in his book and commented, "Oh come now. Surely the idea of continuing your lineage with a beautiful partner and child to call your own intrigues you. This is merely the first step in such a journey."

"Ah hah hah hah ow!"

"Nope," Ian shook his head. "Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope."

"RAAAAAAAHHHHHHHGGGGGG!"

"This is crazy!" Vaike buried his face in his hands, fearfully hiding himself but unwilling to admit it. "They're havin' a baby in there but it sounds like they're dyin'! How can y'all be so calm?" he turned to the others.

Gaius nonchalantly passed a lollipop over to the shaking fighter who stared at it hesitantly, "For the nerves," the thief said. Vaike took the confection and placed it hastily in his mouth as Gaius spoke again, "That'll cost ya."

"Huh?"

Gaius lazily turned his head and glanced at Virion's book, switching between the archer's face and the pages while sucking on his pop, "You're not reading, are you?"

Virion flashed a smile as he closed the text, creating a nice dome sound, "Nothing hides from your gaze, Monsieur Gaius."

"Too excited?" Ian asked.

"It is just the thought that such a wonderful student of mine is moving on in her life. Her aim was true, never did I see such marksmanship in my years in the sport."

Gaius leaned back and crossed his legs, "You didn't do any funny business with Chrom's wife, did you?"

Ian, Lissa, Frederick, Sumia, Vaike, and Sully all gave demonic death glares at the cravat wearer and threatened to disembowel every single part of his miserable body.

Virion lost all composure and retreated back into his seat and waved his arms defensively, "No! I did no such thing! I am a man of honor! I would never do anything as lecherous as take another man's wife! Much less the queen!"

"You better," Vaike growled.

"If that kid has blue hair, it better be Chrom's shade of blue and not yours," Ian said in a dark tone.

"I will murder you," Lissa threatened.

"I will rip you to shreds," Frederick glared.

"I will rip you a new asshole," Sully cracked her knuckles. Virion gasped and covered his rear.

"I will show you the true meaning of blue balls," Sumia's voice turned satanic, bringing up a fist. "And then I'll show you red! Right after I squeeze them one by one until they burst!"

"Whoa, whoa. Hold on there, Sumia. Let's not get too carried away here."

The archer jumped back and squeaked, "Eep!" Now covering both butt and nuts.

Kellem shook his head, "Don't worry, everyone. I was there when he was teaching Olivia how to shoot. I did hit him over the head a couple times whenever he made comments- Uh, anyone? Are you guys… Well, okay then. That's fine, don't pay attention. I'll just be here."

Gaius continued to ignore the aggressive air toward Virion from the other Shepherds and reached into his pouch to take a bonbon. Just as he was about to place the chocolatey piece in his mouth, there was a sound of relieved breathing followed by the cries of a child. Everyone dropped what they were doing and listened intently.

Everything was quiet except for the baby.

Voices were heard inside and then footsteps. The door slowly opened.

"It's a girl," the midwife gave a tired smile. "Would you all like to see her?"

There was a scrambling of feet and the room was filled within seconds. There they saw them: Olivia laid in bed, a wet towel right by her side and relief crossing her features. She smiled tiredly at everyone entering the room but said nothing, still exhausted from the trials of childbirth. Chrom sat on the other side of the bed farthest away from the bedroom doors; behind him the windows glowed in a tranquil wind. In his arms was something wrapped in a slightly bloody towel, there the sounds of a small child emanated from its wraps. The future exalt was immediately in love with the tiny bundle.

"A girl?"

"Congratulations!"

"She's beautiful!"

"Move out of the way! I wanna see!"

"Milord, milady, you did it. I am so proud of you two."

"Olivia, how are you feeling?"

"How bad did it hurt?"

"Woooo! Awesome job you two!"

"She looks strong child!"

"My rival's a father now!"

"You guys did it, holy cow…" Ian breathed.

"Now back away a bit, you all," the midwife explained. "Lady Olivia needs her space, give them some room," everyone respectfully took a couple steps back.

Chrom grinned appreciatively to everyone, "It was all Olivia's doing. She did all the hard work. I just sat back and had her squeeze my hand."

"Almost tore it off sounds more like it," Vaike joked.

"May we have a closer look?" Sumia asked.

Chrom nodded, passing the baby girl over to Olivia who looked at her for a second after receiving her before showing her to everyone. There wrapped safely in her mother's arms was a newly born baby girl, her mouth slightly open, showing her toothless mouth and moaning her discomfort in the new world. She wore on her head short, blue hair, the exact same color as Chrom's, and to which everyone sighed in relief. Virion simply nodded his head and exhibited a "I told you so," sort of smirk. Everything about the girl looked perfect.

However Frederick had a searching look in his eye and when he leaned back to his normal posture he asked, "My apologies, milord. But the mark of the exalt, is it there?"

That was when Olivia smiled knowingly and raised her daughter a little higher and tilted her a bit, "Look at her eye."

Everyone leaned forward and gasped.

"Holy wows! It's in her left eye!" Lissa exclaimed.

"Fascinating…" Miriel whispered.

There it was, clear as day. The symbolic mark of Naga, blue within a sea of blue. The very sign given to those born within the royal family. Where the girl's pupil was suppose to be, was replaced entirely by the holy dragon's tear and goblet.

Vaike slapped Virion on the shoulder, "Well, looks like you had nothin' to worry 'bout. She is Chrom's kid!"

"Did you expect anything else?" the man asked. "And did the dark blue hair mean nothing to you?"

"Aww! Who cares about all that boring stuff!" Nowi pouted, who was practically jumping up and down on the edge of the bed before she was pulled off by Gregor. "Get to the good stuff! What's her name?"

Ian became very quiet as Chrom and Olivia looked at each other. Olivia gave her husband an encouraging, "Go on," before he answered.

Chrom coughed into his hand, "Well, we've had some help in the naming process," he turned an eye toward Ian. " And since we now know it's a girl, we've decided that one of the names we thought up for her would be a perfect match," Chrom gave a smug smile toward Ian and Ian raised a brow.

"Lucina. Her name is Lucina."

* * *

"Saddle, secured. Horse fed. Food, clothing, extra socks, bedroll, sword, tomes, maps, telescope, money… the letters. Everything's here. Finally time to go. After a year of training it's finally time to go."

Chrom handed Ian his pack, "Got everything?"

"Yeah," Ian confirmed as he finished up his final checks. "I can finally try and figure out my past."

While Ian held the reins to mount Cinis, the smile on Chrom's face faltered and he became hesitant, "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked.

Ian looked down, "Huh? What do you mean?"

"I mean, what if this journey is a complete waste of time, you'll miss some of Lucina's first few months. Or what if something really terrible happened in your past and it's actually a good thing you don't remember. Maybe it's just best to let sleeping dogs lie."

"...I don't think that's how that phrase is used, Chrom."

"You know what I mean."

Ian sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He then reached into his pack to make sure the old dusty letters were still there, all carefully sealed in another bag to prevent any decomposition or tearing, according to Miriel, "Well, I'll never find out until I start looking. I finally have an opportunity here, Chrom. I don't want to waste it."

Chrom reluctantly nodded, "Yeah, you're right. Just a moment of weakness, is all."

"Heh, don't worry. I'll be back soon."

"Lucina will be missing her uncle."

"She still has Frederick as her godfather. Or… Vaike. If you're really desperate."

Chrom couldn't help but laugh as he reached up to shake Ian's hand, "Have a safe trip, brother."

Ian smirked, "I will, don't burn down the castle while I'm gone."

"Frederick is the pyromaniac, not me."

"Then no more holes in the wall."

The two men shared one final laugh before they let each other go, both nodding to the other as Cinis went into a walk.

"See you, mate."

"We'll be back here whenever you need us, bring back some good stories."

And with that Ian's horse broke into a trot and then a run, disappearing beyond the rolling green hills of the castle grounds. Soon afterwards panting was heard from behind and someone gasped.

Lissa bent down to her knees and tiredly asked, "D-did Ian leave already?"

"Yep," Chrom nodded, crossing his arms and looking up to see Frederick approaching.

"Why didn't you tell me?" the princess demanded.

Chrom chuckled and gave an apologetic shrug, "Well, he said didn't want to be bogged down any more than he had to. So he decided to only tell me."

Lissa breathing became more rapid and her face became crimson with miffed anger. She stood up tall and bellowed through open palms, "Ian you jerk! Get back here so I can see you off!"

* * *

Ian felt the wind rush through his hair as Cinis galloped through the countryside. Though it had only been only two days of riding, he was making good time. It was far better than having to walk the entire distance.

It was a strange feeling, riding alone. Both were a far cry to his regular experience of travel. He was so used to having to walk, to march everywhere during his journeys that even though he had been riding with Cinis for a year, the motion felt foreign to him. Not to mention the lonely feeling as well. It was hard having no one to talk too; Cinis was there, but the conversations were always too one sided.

"_But I'm finally moving," _the tactician thought to himself "_I could have been done and over with this a year ago, but heck, no use complaining. Having a horse to ride doesn't hurt either… Really could use some food though. And a place to sleep."_

Within the next hour he finally rode into Southtown and found a local inn just as the sun was about to set. He tied Cinis to one of the outdoor posts and walked inside.

"One room and a meal please," Ian asked the innkeeper as he pulled out a gold coin and placed it on the counter.

The innkeeper accepted the coin and waved his hand, "Certainly, right this way."

Ian was then led into a small, dark room on the upper floors with a bed fit for a single person, a bedside table with an unlit candle, and an oaken closet next to a window that overlooked the town's streets.

The owner lit the candle and said, "Drop your things here. Your food will be downstairs in the dining area."

Ian thanked the man and did exactly that. But just as he was about to exit the room, something in the window caught his eye. He meandered over to the glass to take a look, breaking into a smile just as he did.

Off in the distance was a familiar sight: A church or cathedral even, just sitting across a water bridge and overlooking the nightly town square where empty vendor stalls laid dormant as everyone retired to their homes.

"_Place looks so much more different now that it's not all on fire and with brigands running around," _the tactician almost fondly remembered the attack two years ago. "_That was just after I met Chrom and we had our first battle together. I was just learning… err… remembering how to fight and use my knowledge with tactics. We all got a bruising that day and Lissa wasn't as skilled a healer as she is now."_

He rubbed the back of his head and chuckled, "_And Frederick. That was back when he didn't trust me and thought I was a Plegian spy. I remember my skin always crawling because I could almost feel him glaring into the back of my skull. Good times. Maybe I'll go visit the market when it opens up in the morning." _

That was when his stomach began to growl. Ian looked down and clenched his belly, "Uh, right food. I'm starving, I need to go eat," Ian then grabbed his maps, the letters from the desert and moved downstairs with meat on his mind.

* * *

Ian ate his soup and bread roll in the lower dining area with a couple other patrons that were staying up after hours that night. It wasn't the worst thing he had ever eaten, Sully's "cooking" still topped that. But it wasn't the best either. He deduced that it must have been that he was simply too spoiled by the splendors of palace life and good food.

"_Still could use some pork or beef though," _he complained inwardly as he took a bite from his bread. "_I'm going to starve if I don't get some actual meat," _he took another bite.

From across the room, one of the other patrons talked.

"Hey, Marcus. What you got there in your hands?"

"Huh? This thing? Just got a letter from my cousin in Valm."

Ian pulled out his maps and letters from his bag and tried to ignore the chatter from the other residents, "_Now that I'm here, I should start planning out my next move and see if I can find any clues to my missing memories." _

"What'd he write about?"

"Nothing special. Farming, the missus. Apparently they're building a ton of ships over there. He thinks they're preparing for something."

"Must be some mass fishing venture or somethin'. Wife keeps tellin' me those Chon'sin folk love their seafood."

"Maybe."

"_Gods are they loud," _Ian groaned. "_Maybe I should ask if I can bring my food upstairs."_

"So, have you seen them?"

"No, but I've heard rumors. Something is out there, out in the grass fields."

"_Grass field?" _

"That's what I've heard. The one east of here, right?"

"Right."

Ian looked at his map, more specifically at the giant "L" shape he had drawn of the general southeast location where Chrom and the others had first found him. He remembered walking from the grasslands and into Southtown, but from a directional standpoint, he had no clue from he'd come from. He just remembered them entering one gate in the town and exiting from another.

"_Maybe these guys could give me some clues as to where to look," _the tactician thought. "_If there is something special out there, that could be my link to my missing memories,_" It wasn't a definite thing but it was worth a shot. He pushed his chair back and gathered up his things before walking over to the two men. "_Better than walking blind," _he smirked.

* * *

The next morning Ian went out to the market to restock on supplies and by midday had set off to find the field where his journey had begun two years ago. It didn't take long to ride out to, given that it was relatively nearby even on foot, but he soon found that every station of grass pretty much looked the same.

"Was that where they found me? Or was it there? Um… no that can't be it…"

Ian threw his hands in the air before regretting his decision immediately by almost falling over. He caught himself but had earned an ire glare from Cinis, "Uh, sorry there, mate. My mistake," Ian apologized.

The horse snorted and continued walking.

Ian kept looking around and still couldn't make heads or tails about the area he was in, "Hey, uh… You're not like a dog are you? Can you pick up the scent from my coat and see where I was lying down originally two years ago?"

Cinis stared at him as if he were crazy.

Ian sighed, "No, I guess not."

A half hour of mindless wandering had passed when Ian decided that now would be a good time to take a break and gather his thoughts.

Cinis started eating the grass and Ian pulled out a waterskin to rehydrate.

After taking his fill of water, Ian rubbed his eyes in frustration. All around him was grass. Grass and more grass. The trail leading from the town had long disappeared and eased into the verdant environment. The sky was blue, the sun shining, and everything had an idyllic aspect about it. But Ian couldn't enjoy it.

"Why the hell am I here?" he asked himself aloud. "Why did I even think this was a good idea? I wasted all this time and nothing!" he looked at the purple mark on the back of his right hand and rubbed it irritably. "C'mon, you stupid thing. Burn up or something, like you did before. Give me a clue, a sign, or something. I don't want to have wasted my time out here."

The tattoo did nothing.

Ian groaned, "This sucks."

He got up from the ground and wiped at the grass sticking to his coat and sighed, "Damn it. I guess I'll just keep looking. No point coming this far just to give up now."

"_But there's so much grass," _Ian complained again in his head. "_Why did Chrom come all the way out here anyways? There's nothing out here. Bandit attacks my foot, I bet they just got lost and stumbled upon me on the way." _

Getting back onto his horse, Ian could see a little bit higher than he would have on the ground. He gazed lazily around when something in the distance caught his eye that he hadn't noticed before: A simmer in the light, a smoky mist. In the middle of May.

"_That's odd," _he thought before directing Cinis over to the strange anomaly.

Just as they approached the simmer, the back of Ian's hand finally began to tingle as did the mark on his back. Ian instantly recognized the feeling and became excited.

The simmer acted as if it were a person and turned it's head. It stared for a second before evaporating into the landscape. Ian took a figurative step back, "What?"

But the burning in his hand continued.

Ian blinked and off in the distance the simmering reappeared, farther away this time but just close enough for him to faintly make out the mist.

He ordered Cinis forward and the horse obeyed.

He approached and it disappeared.

He blinked and it reappeared.

The burning continued.

After another half hour of following the smoke, Ian was starting to feel like a fool. He was just about to give up on the next occurrence when something else stopped him in his tracks.

The burning flared magnificently for a moment but then disappeared completely.

There right by the simmering light was a house, a small wooden thing in the middle of the expansive meadow. The home was so out of place that Ian almost forgot about the light.

He looked back however and noticed that it stood right by the door.

It walked inside.

Ian just about slapped himself in the face at the absurdity of it all. Was the light he was following some kind of spirit? A ghost from an older time luring him into some kind of trap? Why was his hand burning when he saw it? Why did it stop when he saw the house? What the hell was going on?

"I have a bad feeling about this, Cinis," Ian muttered. Cinis neighed in agreement. They proceeded anyways.

At the door, Ian mentally prepared himself for what he was about to potentially see. The door itself looked incredibly old and the handle about to fall off at any moment. Ian played with the thing for a bit and was almost amazed that it instead felt very sturdy.

He slowly turned and opened the door.

The door groaned and a scent of exhausted candles hit Ian's nose.

Ian's expectations of the small, wooden house would have been run down and abandoned. But instead he saw bookshelves, plants, figurines, a still operating grandfather clock, a couch, and a green pine colored rug. He called to see if anyone was home but was met with only silence.

"Does anyone still live here?" he called again but still heard nothing. He cautiously decided to walk inside.

The moment Ian took a step inside the house, he immediately froze. There at the halfway through the living room and into the kitchen past it was the simmering mist from before. But instead of it just being a messy blur of light, it had the shape of a woman with long, flowing hair.

The woman stared wordlessly at Ian for a second before turning to the side. Ian eye's followed her movements and they lowered onto a large object that looked like a piano. The woman sat down and began to play.

The keys at first were slow, playing once every second. The tone was deep and drawn out, but then began to pick up in tempo. Her spectral fingers glided across the keys and she gently moved with them. The keys lightened and Ian felt a tinge of harmony from the music but also of somber loneliness. Melancholy, in a way. Slowly but surely however, the piece picked up and felt more elated and upbeat; Ian settled into ease and couldn't help but feel safe.

The music played for several minutes until the song reached its zenith. It lulled and died, finally ending in the pensive theme it started with.

Ian stared at the side of the ghostly woman's face, uncertain of what was going to happen next. But instead of a message or magical prophecy, the woman looked up toward the ceiling and with a final, haunting breath, inexplicably faded out of existence.

Ian's mouth hung open in disbelief, "_What the hell just happened?"_

He approached and touched the seat of the piano. Cold.

"_Was I hallucinating?" _Ian called out again. "Hello? Again, is anybody here?"

Nothing but the ticking of the old grandfather clock.

Ian rubbed the back of his neck. There was something about this place that spoke to the young tactician. Something about the books, the creaking floorboards, the seat, the figurines, even the dusty windows with the old light shining through.

But most of all it was the piano.

Ian stared at the keys for the longest time and had the growing urge to press one of them. He reached his hand forward and lethargically brought one of his fingers down.

_Duun._

Ian paused a little out of surprised shock. Something about pressing that key felt right, felt familiar. It was similar to the time when he realized his prowess in hand to hand combat during the final battle in the Plegian campaign.

"_I wonder if I can play?" _he thought.

Ian brought out the stool and pulled off his gloves. He looked over to his left and located the instrument's metronome, "_Just for a little bit, I don't think anybody lives here. One song and I'll be on my way," _he pulled the little pendulum and let it go.

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

He placed his left hand onto the keys, starting off by using only his index finger and thumb and switching back and forth between the two keys at an even tempo.

_Duni, duni, duni, duni, duni…_

His right hand wistfully joined, beginning the song while the left played the beat.

The song itself was incredibly simple and elementary in its craft. Nothing extraordinary. But it was because of the song's simplicity that put the man's mind at ease. It was lovely and sweet, no hint of sadness but had a feel for yearning. When the tempo rose so did the tune, creating a positive energy that reverberated through Ian's ears.

Everything felt natural to him: The seat, the keys, the feel, the sound. Every single detail felt so great, so powerful. Normally his life was that of a tactician, someone who sought out strategies to accomplish the mission, with the end result almost always resulting in someone's death. Someone's destruction.

Here he created sounds and emotions. He gave something life instead of taking it away. Orchestrated an instrument that entered people's souls and not their flesh.

It was liberating.

He played and he played and he played, basking in the euphoria of the piano's theme. He reached the height of the song and was about to let go, slowing down until-

_Crash._

Ian jumped in his seat as if he had been electrocuted. He spun around, hand already reaching for his sword when he froze.

With a vase shattered near the entrance of the door, he saw the recognizable naval blue clothing and armor of Marth.

Ian paused, "Marth?"

Marth's eye rapidly switched between the tactician and the shattered vase as her face was flushed with embarrassment, "Uh, my- my apologies, Sir Ian. I didn't mean to intrude. The vase it- I must have accidentally knocked it over while I wasn't paying attention."

"Uh huh…" the tactician started, still surprised at the mysterious warrior's sudden appearance. "But what are you doing here?"

Marth became quiet, looking as though she were carefully choosing her words before she answered, "I was… looking for someone. And I thought I may have been able to find them around here, but then I saw you and this strange house. So I decided to follow and see what you were up to."

Ian nodded and awkwardly motioned his head toward the piano, "Well, as you can see I was playing, but… Just letting you know this isn't my house. I don't live here."

"I thought as much. But why are you here?"

"That's… what I'm trying to figure out."

After a moment of silence, Marth spoke again, "You play beautifully."

Ian was taken aback by her comment but thanked her anyways, "Uh, thanks. I didn't even know I knew how to play, to be honest."

Marth looked confused, "But then how were you able…?"

"Previous life I guess."

Marth's eyes narrowed on the tactician when they heard movement outside.

"Huh, a horse? What is a horse doing here?"

"Uh oh," Ian muttered. Marth looked back at Ian with the same look of apprehension in her eyes.

Through the open doorway they saw the shadow of a hunched old man, bald at the top and with a mangy beard at the mouth. He stumbled inside and gasped.

"Intruders! Out of my home! Out of my home, I say!" he hoarsely yelled.

Marth stepped back as the old man threateningly lifted his cane, "Our apologies, sir! We didn't mean to-"

"Who are you people? Trying to steal from a lonely old man, huh! Is that it?"

Ian opened his mouth, "We were just passing by sir. We were both looking for-"

The old man turned with narrow and barely opened eyes and pointed, "And you, young man. Get away from that piano! It is very special to me and I won't have you-" he froze when he saw the purple coat and white hair and his mouth fell open. Looking as if he saw someone come back from the dead and was at a sudden loss for words.

His hand fell and Ian paused.

"Ian? Is that you?"

* * *

**I'm not going to lie, as interesting as this chapter was, it wasn't the most fun for me to write. Too many scene transitions and a lot of research for things I had no clue about, like horses, and pregnancy, and pianos... and pregnancies. I watched childbirth for this chapter and I didn't even need it. Ugh. **

**Now we can finally get to the more interesting part of this arc. I have been looking forward to this for a long time now. The next chapter will be coming much, much sooner than this did, I promise you that.**

**If you guys are interested or even care, the music that the ghost lady played was "Between Worlds" by Roger Subirana Mata and the one Ian played was the piano version of "Chasing Cars." Why "Chasing Cars" you may ask? Because this is one of the songs I associate with when I think of the RobinxLucina ship. **

**Anyways, have a good one, everyone. Don't forget to review and I'll see you all on the flip side. See you very soon. **


	11. Chapter 10: Who Are You?

**Hey there, everybody. Sorry for the long delay, didn't think this chapter was going to take this long. But writer's block sucks and sometimes when you're given too much freedom, but on the same coin it's actually not that bad. Can lead to multiple breakthroughs regarding a certain character that actually makes me glad I took my time.**

**On another note, I think it's best that I don't say chapters are coming up each month see how so far that wasn't the case. It just creates expectations for you guys and eventual disappointment and I don't want that. Just know it will happen eventually. I have created a system that will hopefully get chapters done quicker but don't hold out on that too much. I do get guilty when nothing is uploaded around the two month mark. **

**As always, thank you guys for your patience and I hope you enjoy. **

* * *

**Chapter 10: Who Are You?**

"Took me a bit to find this place. Was expecting to run into a town or village, but a random house in a grassy field in the middle of butt-ton nowhere? Can't get any better than that."

"What makes you think this house is abandoned?"

"Well for starters the door was unlocked, allowed for some easy peaking inside. Place looks like a mess. If we were to spruce it up a little bit, I'd say it'd make for a real good hiding spot."

"Jon, I don't think we should be here. I'm very sure someone still lives here."

The brown haired wyvern rider waved it off, "It's fine. If anything we can just rest here until we find a better spot. Or we could just kill the owner and take it instead."

"Don't you dare, Jon. We are not killing innocent people and taking their homes," Laura scowled.

"Ah ha ha ha ha ha… Ha ha… Ha… ah..." Jon laughed but stopped. "It was only a joke."

Laura shook her head, "Now isn't the time for jokes," she clutched the sleeping child in her hands who was fast asleep. "...Let's just get Ian inside. He's… been through a lot today."

Jon nodded and opened the door, "Empty. See?"

"They could be out," Laura suggested.

"At this time? It's really early in the morning, at least 0500. People are normally asleep at this time."

"Farmers then."

"Where's the farm?"

Laura conceded and sighed, "Alright fine… But I still don't think it's right."

"It's fine. Doesn't look like anyone has been here in ages. There is a bedroom down that little hallway though, you can put Ian there for the time being."

Laura gave a skeptical stare for several seconds before looking at Ian. She shook her head and sighed once more, "...Very well."

Jon nodded as he watched his older sister leave the room and carry his nephew with her. Curious, he decided to go explore the living space for a bit and then the kitchen. Checking the cupboards, he found little but dust and a couple bits of old fruit.

"No one here," he confidently said. But just as he was about to check the sink for water he heard movement outside and Frestrum growling. Jon walked out of the kitchen and paled when he came face to face with an older looking man.

The old man's eyes grew wide and he clutched at the wooden practice sword at his hip. He brought it up and roared.

"Intruder!"

Jon yelped in pain when the bokken came crashing down.

* * *

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Stop! Stop bloody hitting me, you old man!" Ian yelled as he tried in vain to protect his bruising forehead.

"You disappear for two years and now you suddenly come back? Do you know how worried I was? I thought you were dead!"

"I don't even remember who you are!"

"Playing the amnesiac? Do you take me for a fool, boy? Stop playing that clichéd excuse with me! I've taught you better than that!"

"It's true!"

"And why do you have your shoes on in the house? You'll make a mess!"

"What?"

As the two men continued their bickering, Marth politely stood on the sidelines trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, a mixed expression on her face as she waited for the two men to stop fighting.

The old man was very, very old looking to say the least and had a strange accent Ian could not pinpoint. Sunspots permeated the ancient man's bald head and he wore a white beard that dangled at the end of his creaking mouth. On his person was a faded grey robe with a brown sash looking design around his neck. In his right hand was the walking stick he was currently using to beat Ian senseless.

Not even a second after identifying Ian did the man go into a rampage and started beating the young man with his walking stick.

"Stop!"

"You disrespectful child! I thought your mother and I taught you better than that! I mourned for the both of you for two years. Two years! I couldn't find your body so I never knew what happened to you!"

"Stop it, damn you!"

"I looked everywhere! An old man!"

"If you keep freakin' hitting me-!"

"I had to bury your mother's body alone!"

Ian's nostrils flared and he screamed at the top of his lungs, "Stop!" he grabbed the old man's cane and violently yanked it out of the old man's hands.

He made to protest but was swiftly cut off when Ian barked.

"For the last time I told you I don't remember anything! I don't remember you! I don't remember this house! I don't remember who I used to be and most importantly I don't remember my mother!" Ian's face turned a scarlet shade of red before he tried to calm his breathing. "I was gone for two years because I didn't remember. Because I was sucked into events that were beyond my scope of understanding and control. I had to help good people and kill others because that was all I had. I remembered nothing else!"

His breathing became more ragged, "Please, sir. All I ask is if… if what you are saying is absolutely true. Then I have come back here. I don't remember anything and I want to know. Please, sir… do not play with me like this. I want- I need to know. I need to remember what happened that day and why," Ian paused and was looking like a dead man. "Why my memories are gone and most importantly, is there a way to get them back?"

The elder paused with the most astonished look on his face. He stared into Ian's eyes and saw the anger, despair, and passion behind them. None of these traits would have been present if he were not telling the truth.

"You're… serious," the old man breathed. "You actually don't remember."

"Please, sir…" Ian begged. "I need to recover my memories, I need to remember. Tell me the truth about if we ever met before. If we never met before this day, then please do not waste my time and I'll be on my way. We'll never see each other again. But if we have," Ian paused. "Then I would like to know about this mother of mine. And... why... she... died."

The old man went into a deep contemplative state and was at a loss for words. He brought a hand to cover his mouth and another to stabilize himself on the furniture. Marth saw this and took the cane from Ian's hands and kindly gave the walking stick back to the old man who quietly thanked her.

He was silent for several minutes before he motioned them into the kitchen and sat them down at the table. There he was mute for a few more seconds before starting up again, "My name is No'bun, I've lived in this tiny home with my wife before she passed away twenty-five years ago. For several years after that I lived alone with no one to share the end stretch of my life, that is, until you and your family came."

Ian listened intently.

"The family was of three people. Well… four I suppose. There was a young, obnoxious flier named Jon; boy always seemed to do something wrong. Then there was a young, beautiful, and kind hearted woman named Laura," No'bun smiled. "Your mother."

Ian nodded.

"There was a wyvern those two rode on… Frestroose- no, Frestrum I believe the name was. He was a large, black dragon, stronger and bigger than most wyverns I had ever seen. He and Jon went off to fight the war between Ylisse and Plegia more than fifteen years ago," the old man paused. "Then there was you, Ian, a small child no more than a couple months old."

Ian opened his mouth to speak but stopped, "_Jon? Laura? ...Frestrum?_" recognizing the names from the letters he read a million times. "_That can't be a coincidence,"_ his hand automatically reached into his bag but stopped when he decided to let the old man continue.

"You and your mother lived a safe and peaceful life here. While you grew up, your mother and I taught you many things. Things such as how to use a sword, magic, a little bit of chemistry, alchemy, math, reading, writing, hand to hand combat, how to play the piano… But there was another skill, one of which you taught yourself and was your personal favorite," No'bun's eyes twinkled. "Tactics."

"Tactics?" Ian asked.

No'bun nodded before he slowly got up out of his seat and walked out the room. Ian and Marth stayed behind hesitantly and looked at each other wondering if they should follow. Soon after the old man shuffled back into the kitchen and lethargically sat back down.

"Here," the old man said as he brought a dusty tome forward. Ian took the old book with tentative hands and stared at the cover in disbelief.

"...A Beginner's Guide to Tactics," he read.

"It was one of your favorite books as a child," No'bun explained. "You were oh so very smart at such a young age. Picking up ideas, strategies, and studying where most other children would rather play outside."

His face saddened, "It was because of this you were often scorned by the other boys and girls whenever your mother brought you into town. They didn't want to play, not with you. You were ostracized because you were different and soon you stopped going, preferring to stay here rather than leave the comfort of these fields."

Marth turned to Ian with a look of sympathy.

"You were diligent in your studies even though you didn't need them. You always asked to play chess with me but you never won. You were taught by your mother how to wield a sword and it became a favorite past time. You were polite to those around you but never liked hanging out with strangers for long."

Ian rubbed the back of his neck, "I guess that explains why I don't go out too much."

No'bun continued, "That was how you spent most of your life here: Reading, studying, and training. You did however become more bold in your later years and went into town more often, not a whole lot, but some," the old man paused and looked at Ian's coat with a sense of forlorn.

"That coat once belonged to your uncle before he left. You wore it every year on the anniversary of his death… You also wore that on the day you disappeared."

Ian looked down on the beat up and weathered coat. The simple gold and violet patterns that scaled his arms, the three eye shaped patterns separated by a couple inches of space and lines.

The very coat he wore when he first woke up all those years ago.

No'bun eyed the tears and split threads with a sense of intrigue, "You were very careful with that coat and wore it only once a year… Have you been wearing it all this time?"

"Uh…"

No'bun lowered his eyes and had a stern look, but then broke out into a weak chuckle, "My, how you've grown, boy."

Ian gave a neutral stare and scratched his nose to deflect the odd compliment. A minute of silence passed with Ian thinking his next move, No'bun waiting for the boy's question, and Marth sitting quietly waiting for both. Another minute passed after that and Ian asked, "About those people that- My mother and my uncle that lived here… What did you say their names were again?"

"Laura and Jon."

"_Right…" _

Ian's hands slipped into his bag and he brought out the old dusty letters from the campaign two years ago. He took them out of the protective seal Miriel gave him and passed them forward.

"...Are these the same people?"

No'bun adjusted himself and leaned forward to take the letters. He squinted at the scrawls for a moment before he ruffled through his pockets and took out a pair of ocular reading glasses. After the first sentence the man froze but kept on reading. Once he finished he peered over his frames, "Where did you find this?"

Ian bit his lip, "Back in Plegia when the Shepherds and I tried to rescue Exalt Emmeryn… Uh… Former Exalt..."

"Shepherds? Plegia? Why on earth were you in-" No'bun cut himself off and began coughing. Marth got up from her chair and rubbed his back to which he eventually waved her off and thanked her one more time. The old man recovered and stared at the letters before asking, "Would it be alright with you if I were to hold onto these for a moment's time? I would… like to see them a bit more."

Ian was skeptical but gave the go ahead anyways, "Um, sure. Just be careful with them, they seem to be very old."

"Yes, yes. Very old, indeed."

There was nothing but silence for several minutes before Ian asked, "When my mother died... Was it the same day I disappeared?"

No'bun cheerlessly nodded.

"And you said you buried her when she died?"

"...Yes."

Ian noticed the hesitation and the pained expression on the elderly man's face when he brought up the woman and felt a pang of guilt. Nineteen years of living in this household and he couldn't remember any of it, nothing of the woman that raised him and how she ceased to be. What kind of person would he be if he didn't remember? What kind of son? Ian's knuckles curled up on the legs of his pants and he somberly asked.

"Would it be alright with you if I were to see her then?"

* * *

Later that evening when the temperatures had cool from the summer day, Ian laid fully clothed on what was presumably his old bed in his former room in the years before he lost his memories.

The window was open and it let out a refreshing breeze. With his hands folded across his stomach, Ian's eyes scanned the darkened room, searching for anything that seemed familiar to him.

Two bookshelves leaned against a wall that faced directly across the bedroom door. On it were various books that ranged from old children's stories to tactical manuals. There were also small figurines or toys Ian sometimes saw whenever he visited Ylisstol's marketplaces. Figures of knights in armor, mages, and dragons placed across the room all in battle stances and poses.

A simple table that was made into a makeshift desk was facing the front of the bed and held several scrolls, writing utensils, and more open manuals, all in a terrible disarray. The desk only acted to reinforce Ian's confirmation that he was incredibly disorganized with his belongings.

Inside the closet that leaned near the door were the clothing of a simple man, "_Or a commoner, as Maribelle would say," _Ian rolled his eyes at the thought. Just a few pairs of long sleeved shirts and brown trousers.

"_Nothing to write home about… err, per se. Shame, if I were a noble I could just rub it in her face and have her be quiet about it. I could lie through my teeth about it though, that's always an option…" _he yawned. "_Wonder how her and Libra's trip is doing." _

The house despite its outward appearance was deceptively big; Ian's room was attached to the very end of the hallway and on the left, right next to the kitchen. From his one window he could see the front of the house and the vast empty plains that eventually led back to Southtown several miles away.

It was a relatively small room but still large enough for the young man to move about comfortably. The first thing Ian noticed when he entered was the difference in color and quality of the floorboards that differed from most of the house and even the hallway. Which meant his room was not part of the original construction of the home. The only other room with the same colored floorboards was the one his mother used to sleep in according to No'bun.

Other than that, nothing stood out to him as remarkable. The room however did seem to be a small cut above from most inns he's slept in.

"Could take some time I guess. Memories aren't something you can force," Ian mumbled before his eyes fell on one of the hardcover tomes on his desk. "Or maybe if I hit my head hard enough I can shake some of them out…" Ian played with the notion for a bit before he thought he heard someone move outside.

Ian sat up from his bed and turned around to his window to peek outdoors. Quite a ways away he thought he saw the slender figure of Marth sitting on the grass and staring up at the stars with her back towards him.

The tactician grew curious and stared, "Wonder what's she doing out there?" he turned to his bedroom door, "Well, I guess I'll go find out."

He chuckled as he got off his bed. "Hey, doesn't this seem familiar?"

* * *

Marth sat with her legs pressed against her chest and her head tilted up toward the stars, a cool breeze echoed through the valley and swept the grass heads and the trees in the background.

She closed her eyes for a moment and let out an exhale, but when she heard movement behind her, her muscles tensed and she spun on the spot, hand already reaching for her blade.

Ian halted and looked quizzically at the woman before playfully waving his hands in front of him and laughed, "Whoa, whoa. Hold on there. I'm no Risen, I'm not going to hurt you."

Marth stared at the tactician with a hint of embarrassment before giving an agitated sigh, her torso rotated back to it's original position as she looked back at the stars.

Ian sat down next to the flushing warrior with his legs extended and leaned back. He teased, "You don't hang out with people often, do you? You're too edgy."

"It's a reflex," Marth grumbled without turning her head. "If I'm careless it could cost me my life."

Ian whistled, "Aren't you grim."

The two sat in silence for a definite amount of time before Ian asked, "So, what are you doing out here by your lonesome? Stargazing a hobby of yours?"

It took Marth a while to answer but when she did it was in a distant voice that seemed to be more for her than him, "The stars they're… they just seem brighter here than where I'm from."

"Oh? And where would that be?"

"Nowhere you need to know."

"Cryptic too."

Ian put on the guise that he was simply stargazing, but in reality he was carefully observing Marth through his peripherals.

"_Damn… I think this is the first time I've seen Marth like this. Pretty much every time I run into her she's always fighting, always in a rush. Never get a chance to just sit down and talk. Chrom and I agreed to give her some space but… Here she is, just watching stars; I can't believe she agreed to stay for a while. What the hell do I say?" _

As Ian's eyes trailed down Marth's clothing, it was obvious to tell that she was constantly on the move and did not stay in one place for long. Mud, grass stains, tears, wrinkles, split treads, even blood was seen on various places of the woman's armor. It was only through both his and No'bun's coaxing that she finally relented and allowed herself to stay for some rest and recovery.

Nonetheless talking to her was still very difficult.

As Ian contemplated his next move, he felt the nagging feeling that he was also being watched. Still keeping the notion that he was looking at the stars, Ian saw from the corner of his vision the analytical gaze being directed at him from Marth's disconcerting eye.

Ian lazily turned his head toward her and raised a brow, "What?"

"How can you be so relaxed?" Marth asked.

"Relaxed?" Ian furrowed his brow. "I don't think I follow."

"The death of your family. The fact that their lives were cut short in such a violent manner and that you'll never see them again. You'll never remember them. How can you still… smile?"

"I…" Ian started before he cut himself off. He thought about Marth's unexpected question for a bit and was wracking his brain for an answer. Looking to nowhere in particular, he slowly replied, "I guess the reason why I'm not overreacting about my mother's death is… is because I don't really know her."

"But she's your mother."

"She _could _be my mother," Ian corrected, turning back to face Marth. "That's another thing, this place may or may not have been my home. That old man in there? He could just be pulling my leg for some laughs," Ian retracted both legs and and placed his arms around them. "I've been wondering about my past for so long that I've gotten used to the idea of not remembering anything. But when I came here I… I don't know. It wasn't what I expected."

"What were you expecting?"

"I don't know."

Marth just stared for several seconds before she shook her head and went back to looking at the stars, "I see."

Ian looked at the stoic warrior and scratched his head, curious about Marth's uncharacteristic interest in his life he asked a follow up question, "Well, what about you then? Why are you so interested in my reaction?"

"No reason. I was just curious."

"Liar."

Marth quirked a brow at Ian and went back to her activity.

Ian sighed, biting his lip and shaking his head at her cold reply, "You have a family, in some form or another. Tell me about them."

It wasn't a request.

"Why are _you_ suddenly so interested?" Marth asked.

"Fifty-fifty," Ian said simply. "You know a bit about my 'family,' I would like to know a bit about yours. Or you in general, if you're more comfortable with that. It's been a couple years since we first met, I'd like to get to know you better."

Marth looked slightly uneased.

Ian shook his head but chuckled, "How about this then?" he extended his hand forward. "My name is Ian. Nice to meet you."

Marth eyed the gesture and appeared to be conflicted. Her hand opened and closed repeatedly as if unsure what to do.

Ian saw Marth's hesitation and was worried if he was pushing her too far despite it being only a simple handshake. His hand continued to hover and his commitment to the gesture was starting to wane as the seconds dragged on.

He was just about to concede when he felt her hand grasp his.

Marth could not look Ian in the eye but she tried her best to shake anyways, "H-hello, Ian. Nice to meet you, too."

Ian smirked and cocked his head to the side, waiting for her to continue. It was odd seeing her like this.

Marth bit her lip as if trying to stop herself from speaking, "My name is… my name is… is… is…"

Ian pursed his lips.

"...Marth," she lamely finished.

The white haired tactician gave a puzzled look, unsure if he was expecting Marth to give her real name or for her to continue on with her charade. He burst into a thunder of laughter.

Marth's embarrassment turned to a scowl, "What?"

Ian snickered into other his hand, "No, nothing. I just find it funny because we both know that's not your real name."

Marth looked away, "I believe it's best that I don't tell you. It's something I shouldn't openly disclose."

Ian let go of Marth's hand and breathed, "Of course not."

The moon rose a little higher in the sky when Ian once again broke the silence, "When I saw those two graves earlier today, it was like something out of a dream," he looked back and saw the same stones sitting dormant by the side of the house. "I've had a dream or vision a year ago and it looked almost exactly how it did then, though it had only one grave as opposed to two. But everything else? The grass, the trees, the sky, the setting, all of it was the same. Even the words on one of the graves was verbatim like the one in my dream."

Marth turned her head and was instantly on guard.

"Captain… Captain Jon Hiko of the Wyvern Air Corps. Born March 3, 1578 and died on June 29, 1604. Guy was twenty-six years old," Ian stopped to stress the name. "Wyvern Air Corps."

Marth said nothing.

"He was Plegian," Ian concluded, looking despondent. "Ylisse has no wyvern riders, only pegasus. Pretty much everything points to it: The dreams, the names, the landscape, the old man... if it's true then my uncle was Plegian and in turn that would be the same for my supposed mother. And for me."

"Perhaps it was a different country? Plegia is not the only place with wyverns," Marth interjected.

"Why else would he be so eager to go to war? The Valmese had no stake, nothing to lose. Why on earth would they join?" the tactician shook his head. "Plegia is the only place that makes sense."

The wind continued to blow softly and and the stars continued to shine, "It's possible," Marth said.

"It is very freakin' possible," Ian affirmed, closing his eyes and clenching his teeth; lines crossing his face, "...Shit."

For the longest time the two said nothing. Every now and then they would look up at the stars to distract themselves, but would always trace themselves back to their thoughts, "How do you feel?" Marth asked.

"Like crap," Ian admitted, not looking at Marth but was instead plucking at the blades of grass and scattering them to the wind. "When I first learned of Plegia, I thought that they were simply a misunderstood group that had their reasons for war. But when we actually came into conflict, Emmeryn died as a result. I saw the worst in people from both our side and from theirs. And the events that occurred only seemed to confirm my suspicions that they aren't bad people."

"Then why are you upset?"

"Because of what Plegia has become and what I- we've seen them do. To what lengths some of them are willing to go and the connotation people think of when they hear the word 'Plegian'. I'm the monster that killed Exalt Emmeryn, as is my family."

"But you didn't."

Ian darkly chuckled, "I appreciate the thought. But it doesn't change the fact of what other people will think of me. Of what I think of me," he paused and appeared crestfallen. "...I think that also means I killed my own countrymen."

"Ian," Marth challenged, leaning forward and catching the white haired tactician off guard. "Where I'm from it doesn't matter who you are or where you're from. If you're human then we accept you, if you're human then we'll protect you. We as humans want to live by each other's security, by each other's happiness. Not by national barriers or lines. If we did then all would be lost. Your origins don't matter."

Ian stared, at a loss for words.

Marth pulled back and stood up, "It's getting late. You should turn to bed, we can talk about this tomorrow," she turned to leave and was halfway to the house when Ian called.

"Hey."

She stopped.

"There is a bathroom down the hallway on the right side of the house," Ian suggested. "And with all your traveling, I don't think you've had much time to settle and relax."

Marth looked down at her worn down clothing.

"Relax," Ian encouraged.

Marth looked back at Ian and let out an uncharacteristic giggle, "Very well. Thank you for your concern, Sir Ian. I may do just that," she bowed her head and walked inside.

Ian nodded when Marth disappeared and lethargically let himself back up. Scratching his head he let out a yawn. Just as he was about to turn back to the house however, there a was a sound that caught his ear. He turned around and off in the distance he could have sworn he saw a rustling in the trees.

"Did I just see what I thought I saw?"

* * *

The next morning Ian slowly shambled into the kitchen rubbing his eyes after No'bun had so loudly called him out of bed for breakfast. Tired but awake when he turned the corner to enter the room his eyes immediately widened when he saw No'bun sitting at the kitchen table and Marth standing with a small cooking pan in her hand near an iron stove making some sort of aromatic delight.

His mouth fell open in disbelief, "What the hell?"

No'bun looked up and Marth turned around, both having puzzled looks on their faces at the slack-jawed expression Ian wore.

"What is this?"

"Ian! Come sit down, Marth here is preparing a lovely breakfast for all of us today and I will not have you sleep in when we eat. How rude!"

"Wha-? What? When? You?" Ian stammered, staring at the skilled warrior turned chef. "You know how to cook?"

"I've picked up a few recipes here and there," Marth said casually, taking a bowl and a whisk and began beating the contents.

Ian continued to stare like an idiot.

"Don't just stand there and gawk, come sit down!" No'bun pulled out a chair and patted his hand on the seat. "Come!"

The young man hesitated for a second longer before making his way to his chair and sat down. There was only the sound of Marth's cooking for several minutes before Ian asked, "What are you making?"

"Scrambled eggs with a little bit of bacon I found lying around. It's not much so we may need to go into town to buy some more."

"Oh it's alright dear, no need to worry yourself," No'bun cheered. "We'll get the items later today. You are so helpful," he turned to Ian with a hardened glare.

Ian stared back at the old man and quirked a brow, "What?"

"Marth knows how to cook."

"...I can see that."

"You never cooked for me."

"What?" Ian was taken aback by the accusation. "You can't grill me for something I don't even remember about!"

"Marth cares for me and you don't."

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Several minutes later Marth set the food on the table and motioned for the two to eat, "Food's ready."

No'bun thanked Marth and went into eating, making loud noises of delight, "Hmm! Yes, excellent cooking, Marth. You're my new favorite child."

"Hey!"

Marth gave an embarrassed smile, "T-thank you, sir. I didn't think it would be that good."

"It's just eggs and bacon," Ian grumbled before taking a bite; he paused to chew before speaking through a full mouth, "Okay… I'll admit, it tastes pretty good."

Marth looked pleased, "I'm glad you like it as well, Sir Ian."

"Okay, first things first," Ian said as he grabbed another piece of bacon. "No need for formal titles or any of that junk. Calling me Ian is just fine."

Marth paused at the request but then attempted to correct herself, "Of course… Ian."

The tactician chuckled, "You're just like Cordelia."

No'bun whacked him upside the head.

"Ow! What was that one for?"

"Don't talk bad about others like that!"

"That wasn't an insult!"

Marth stared at the two bickering men and then broke into a small bout of laughter. Ian and No'bun turned their heads and Ian's cheeks turned red, "What?"

Marth covered her mouth with a hand holding her fork, "It's nothing. Please don't mind me."

Ian looked at the blue haired warrior for a while longer and shook his head, smirking a little. He took his eggs and bacon and quietly began to eat.

Once they had all finished and Marth got up out of her seat to pick up her plate, Ian immediately swooped in and took it out of her hands. He grinned, "Hold on there, ma'am. I'll clean these for you."

"What about my plate?" No'bun demanded.

Ian rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah. Pass them here too, you old geezer."

Marth smiled appreciatively, "Thank you."

"No problem," the tactician replied, already putting the dirty plates in the sink. "I'll make lunch this time."

No'bun chortled at the thought of Ian cooking. The burns, the smokes, the wet food, it all amused him. While still in his seat he reached for his cane and let himself back to his feet when he asked the young man, "What are your plans for today, Ian?"

The tactician kept on scrubbing, "Well, any plans to get my memories back would be nice. I was thinking of exploring the house for a little bit and see if I can jog any memories."

No'bun shook his head, "Memories are not something that can be forced. It is a process, a trail that requires only time as its guide. To erase is painful, to resurrect even more so. I suggest patience and in time it will return."

"You sound like you have experience in such matters," Ian accused.

The old man ignored the comment, "Recreate the events in the years before your amnesia. Eat, sleep, live your life. In time it will return," he repeated.

"Well, what kind of things did I normally do back then?" Ian asked.

"After breakfast you gave me a foot massage and then cleaned up my bedroom and listened to my every-"

"No," Ian immediately cut him off.

No'bun chuckled, shaking his head, "I have already told you the life you lived before your disappearance. Studying and training have always been your past time, perhaps you would like to indulge in that beginner's manual I gave you?"

"The Beginner's Guide? I suppose that could be a start," the young man thought outloud to himself.

"I want you to recover your memories, Ian. But I also want you to enjoy your life while you're at it, no need to rush. You don't want to rush it," the old man warned as if it were a cautionary tale before taking his cane and strolled out the front door.

Ian stared after the old man with a puzzled look before he went back to washing the dishes, "Wonder what that was about?" he said conversationally.

"He's a very elderly man, rarely do I see people reach his age. He must be on his last legs," Marth muttered almost to herself.

"Maybe, he's too lively though," Ian replied.

Marth gave the tactician a hard glare, "Even so, you must give him the respect he deserves, even if he weren't related to you. Life is too precious to brush off."

Ian opened his mouth to rebuttal Marth's comment but the blue haired warrior finished up cleaning the table and walked out the door, leaving a stunned Ian behind to wonder about what he just said.

"What the heck just happened?"

* * *

"When fighting on a hill, always be the army at the top and not at the bottom. Do not charge uphill…" Ian mused to himself.

Lying on his bed, Ian held the tactician's guide No'bun gave to him the day before. Inside were the marks and scribbles of what was presumably a young child, taking notes and underlining keys points in the book. Marth and No'bun had left the house about two hours prior and showed no signs of returning any time soon.

"All the answers feel so obvious, did I really struggle with this when I was younger?" the veteran tactician asked himself, flipping through the pages and already nearing the halfway point in the two-hundred page book after only a half-hour's worth of study.

He passed several more pages and came to the end of the guide, finding nothing but a promotion for the second series in the tactician's guide.

"Well, this is made for beginners to be fair. The newbies have to start somewhere," Ian got up and over to his table to set the manual down. "_Wait, why did I have to start somewhere? Why does No'bun have a tactician's manual?"_

He walked over to his bookshelves and began running his finger over the titles until he came across what he was looking for.

"Here we are, an entire section dedicated to tactics," his finger crossed the spines of each book, from intermediate all the way up to expert. There was a spot missing next to intermediate so Ian went back to his desk and took the beginner's guide and placed it right next to it's sister title.

"Wait, I dedicated an _entire_ shelf to just tactics?" Ian asked, seeing the five volume section and the empty space right next to them.

However upon closer inspection he saw that on the shelves above and below were historical texts regarding stories of warfare. Stories regarding the Plego-Ylissean War and their individual accounts from memoirs to full scale battles. Stories from both sides and even the ones including Regna Ferox's participation which were neutral at the time.

Curiously there were also documents on wars that were based in the continent of Valm; tactics used by the Chon'sin, by Rosanna, by the pitifully small country of Valm itself… All of it filling that one bookcase.

"_Was I some kind of war nut?" _Ian stepped back and stared at the incredibly vast collection. "_Why do I have so many books on war?" _

Suddenly even the figurines of soldiers all posed in various parts of the room was starting to make sense.

This troubled the young tactician. Ever since the war and suffering he saw in Plegia, war was the last thing he wanted to have romantic fantasies about. It was his job of course and he was well versed in it, seeing how he was able to skim through the beginner's manual at such a quick pace, but this was something else. Tactics interested him, historic battles interested him, but Ian always assumed it was because he was placed as the Shepherd's tactician that drove him into those sort of studies. But now he saw it went back even further than that.

"Why?" Ian asked outloud. "Why was some kid that lived in the middle of nowhere so interested in war? What on earth could I possibly-" then it hit him. "Jon…"

Jon, the name of a man he never knew. A name that was almost only just that, scrawled at the end of letters and talking about a war to his sister and her son. The name of a man who died at the still young age of twenty-six and was the name of the man who was apparently his uncle.

"You and my mother came here from Plegia some time before the war fifteen years ago. You were in the Wyvern Air Corps which is a Plegian military branch, so why did you come here? If war broke out only after a couple months of you coming here, then wouldn't you have known coming here was a bad idea? Also, why did you leave Laura- my mother here in enemy territory?" Ian paused. "This doesn't add up."

He sat down on the side of his bed, "My mother and I lived here for nineteen years, so it was a permanent move with no intention of going back to… Plegia. Ylisse is not the ideal place to go if the people are hostile towards you. Something forced you two to come here."

His eyes widened, "Wait, were they spies? Why else would they come to enemy territory? No one would suspect a woman and her child to be infiltrators. Out in the middle of nowhere… with a strange old man… Oh crap…"

Ian turned to his door and heard nothing from outside. Marth and No'bun had left after eating breakfast and it was still uncertain when they'd return.

"_She can handle herself if he tries to pull something," _Ian power-walked out of his room and toward the old man's sleeping quarters. "_He took the letters, there may be more inside. I need clues, if my family were spies then they would make some mention there. A slip up. I need to inform Chrom about this."_

He stopped when he inexplicably came to a dead end and found only a small table and a flower vase. Ian looked around for any signs of a door or an entrance when he noticed that the wall to his left was different from the others. It looked to be made of hard solid wood but with simple white designs of squares all aligned with rows and columns with a subtle light shining through. He reached forward and felt a tinge of small movement and realized it was a sliding door.

His heart rate began to quicken and he slid the door and asked himself, _"Wait, if I really am a Plegian then does this make me a traitor? If I was a spy for nineteen years, long after the war ended then..." _He furiously shook his head. "No, I am the Shepherd's tactician now, Chrom's friend. Whatever loyalties I had before have changed. If I discover something that'll threaten Ylisse's security then I need to report it," he took a deep breath and opened the door.

When the sliding door opened, Ian expected to see shelves full of tomes, scrolls, potions, weapons, black magic, skulls, darkness; things he associated with Plegia. But what he found was completely different.

The room was arguably the smallest in the entire house but seemed to hold the most exotic items. There was a modest bedroll with a pillow, a low square shaped table with papers all over, scrolls on the wall depicting slithering trees, maps of geographical locations. More indoor plants and green-stone figurines were set on the four corners of the room and another set on another low-leveled table by the window. And finally a gold and crimson shrine that smelled of sulfur with pictures of three different people and a black frontal display that held two long and slightly curved swords.

It was almost humbling how small the room was.

"Was I wrong?" the young man barely took a step into the room and was already at the side of the pitiful sized bed.

There was a different atmosphere here compared to the rest of the house. Whereas most rooms felt normal, as one would see if they entered a commoner's home. But here there was a distinctive foreign air, like one Ian had never experienced before. Just the bed and the shrine was a completely new make, the arching swords looked odd but similar to the one Lon'qu used. The smell was almost intoxicating as red and yellow sticks were lit in the corner of the room and bits of ash crumbed into the bowls below them.

After a quick scan of the room, Ian looked down on the small table and realized that the papers were all letters.

Three years worth of letters.

He bent down to pick them up and read.

Jokes, stories, complaints, friends, family, life lessons, everything that spying wasn't. Nothing in Jon's words hinted at subterfuge or deceit, but that didn't mean they were completely explicit either. Locations, Ian noticed weren't exactly named but had brief descriptions; a small strategy he theorized was in case the letters were intercepted by Ylissean forces.

Still, Ian couldn't help but crack a smile when he read one of the letters.

_July 3, 1601_

_Hey sis,_

_Almost been a year now since this war with Ylisse started, feels like it's been longer than that. Not at all like what I expected. I can't wait until it's all over. But hey, enough of that depressing stuff, I need to tell you something that happened yesterday. _

_Now, I'm going to give a list of items you are going to need before you read this: A chair, a bucket, water, and a lot of soap. Hold on now. _

_So you know whenever we eat FSEs (or 'Foods Saved to Eat' because I know you hate abbreviations) it takes a freakin' century and a half for the "food" to leave the slaughtered and violently pillaged sanctuary that is our colons. So many sad and miserable orphans are dying in the bowels of my stomach. Please adopt one of these children and they'll send you a drawing of the terribly explosive scenes as viewed from my butthole. _

_Anyways back to the story, it takes about a week everytime we eat one of these bastards for us to take a crap. So sudden too because one moment you're fine and the next you are sprinting to a hole with a turd halfway out your asshole. We don't have a whole lot of water out here so by the time our shit comes out it's as hard as a rock, I shit you not… Heh heh…_

_So yesterday Nix and I were out on patrol when we came across a platoon of Ylissean soldiers off in the distance and standing in formation. Looked like one of their commanders were giving them a speech and I instantly pitied them. Now naturally we aren't suppose to be seen when scouting enemy territory, so normally we just fly up as high as our masks allow us and try to look down below. Not the perfect place to take a poop, right? _

_Nix's bowels hit him like a freakin' ram and he immediately needs to take a crap. We are in enemy territory and flying at about 5,000 or so feet in the air, no way in hell do we have time to stop for a potty run. Nix is squirming in his seat and looks like he is about to burst. Bastard unzips his pants and decides to take a crap right then and there! I was laughing my ass off! I never saw so much shit fly so fast! _

_About a minute or two after Nix relieved himself we just saw that crap fall down and curve through the air like you wouldn't believe. I swear our hearts were about to burst because that turd fell down and exploded into the backside of that Ylissean commander! I think we may have killed him. What a way to go. Call me cynical but I was laughing my ass off when it landed. One of the funniest things I saw in my entire of life! Ha!_

_Well, I was going to write another story but I'm going to have to end this one early. Kiryn is yelling at us again about drawing dicks in the sand by the poop bucket. Heh, I'll write to you again soon and tell Ian I said hi. _

_With love,_

_Jon _

"What the hell? He pooped on his enemies? What kind of-? What?" Ian tried to stifle his laughter with his hand but to no avail.

He picked up another letter.

_February 10, 1602_

_Hey, Ian!_

_How's it going buddy? I heard you're starting to learn how to read. Oh you smart kid, you. I knew you inherited my smarts, haha. You may be the one reading these letters or it might be mom, ah well. You'll master reading soon enough. 'Cause you is a genius. _

_I thought of sending you books during my travels for you to read, but then I realized our bird may not be able to carry that much weight so I decided to write you letters instead. How does that sound, buddy? _

_Frestrum says hi and that he can't wait to see you again. You'll know what I'm talking about soon enough. Heh heh. Almost two years old. Wow, time sure does fly. _

_Be nice to mommy and gramps, alright? I'll see you again, maybe sooner than you think, haha. _

_From your awesome uncle plus partner in crime, _

_Jon and Frestrum_

Letter after letter were just like those two. Ian pursed his lips as he stood in that tiny room, holding the letter meant for Ian, the young child of two to four, "...This isn't an espionage letter," he muttered to himself as a painful wave of guilt rushed him.

"What is this?" Ian gazed around the room at the various trinkets and foreign designs. The maps, a chessboard, a telescope, tactical manuals... "No'bun… who are you?"

On the low table nearest the window was a small framed painting faced downwards and a small map with tiny flags on it. Curious, the young tactician tiptoed over and picked the picture up. When he flipped over the frame, he saw a depiction of a young man with slick black hair, a green robe similar to the type No'bun wore, and a face so humorless it made Frederick look like a professional comedian. His hands were bandaged and they were folded on the table before him which hinted at nobility or military upbringing. The only sign of life in the man's rigid figure was his piercing brown eyes and his chin tilted upwards in an arrogant stare.

Ian tilted the picture and continued to stare, "Is this a younger No'bun? Seems a little bit different than he is now. I guess time does change you," he put the picture down and then looked at the map but did not recognize the geography. Red and blue flags on both sides with a river down the middle.

Ian picked up a flag, "What on earth is? Why does this old man have so much tactical equipment? It's almost as if he was-"

"Breaking into other people's rooms now are we?"

Ian almost jumped when No'bun materialized into the room and startled him out of his reverie. He loudly swore, "Son of a-! Damn it, No'bun, don't sneak up on me like that!"

The old man cocked his head, "Oh? My apologizes. Where are my manners? I'm sorry for walking in on your attempted robbery."

"I'm not robbing anything."

"Invasion then."

Ian stared as the old man began to shuffle through the room and took some of the yellow candles from the shrine and replaced them with new ones. The young man asked, "Who are you?"

No'bun hummed, "Have you forgotten already? I believe I just told you yesterday who I am."

"No, I mean, who are you? Your clothing, your style, the things you own, this room. This picture," Ian picked up the portrait and showed the face. "You're not from around here."

The old man froze with his back still hunched over and a lit stick in his hand. Ian crossed his arms and stared back expectantly.

"You're not Plegian and you're certainly not Ylissean. Where are you from and why are you here? Why is this room so different from all the others?"

No'bun stared at the brown and black ashed tip of the ceremonial candle stick, the billowing lines of smoke rising from the top and filling the room with a poignant smell that had long been accustomed to his nostrils; nothing more but an empty scent. He looked back at Ian whose arms were still crossed and had both a concerned and curious look in his eye. The old man rose to his feet, "You know you have been in this room only a handful of times in the past, mostly when you were a young child. Later on you were obsessed with your studies, either locking yourself in your room or training like mad outside."

"That doesn't answer-"

"You knew of my past and my culture but there was only one aspect that interested you. And it was one of the reasons why you were so interested in studying tactics," No'bun moved over to the bedroll and sat down and leaned his cane against a wall. "Well, it was one of your interests."

Ian watched as the old man added some leaves to a teapot and then boiled some water on a chemical burner nearby. No'bun looked at Ian and motioned his hand to one of the mats. Ian hesitantly complied before sitting down.

After several minutes No'bun chuckled and passed the young man a porcelain cup, "Have you guessed it yet? Tell me, where am I from?"

Ian looked up from his cup and at the old man, "How am I supposed to know where you are from? That's why I'm asking you."

"Ah, but you're a tactician aren't you? Knowing a person's place of origin can be important," the kettle over the burner began to squeal and No'bun took the hot water and poured it into the teapot. "Tell me, what do you know about Valmese culture?"

"What, the country or the continent?"

"The continent."

The question erased what questions the tactician had before, "Well… I know that just like Ylisse the entire continent is named after one of it's countries. And that just like here the culture is vastly different depending on said country."

The elder nodded, "Go on."

"The culture I see in this room is nothing like Ylisse, or the Feroxis, or even Plegia. So it has to be on the continent of Valm," Ian watched No'bun give another encouraging nod. "But that's where it ends, sir. My knowledge on Valm is severely limited."

"Then allow me to show you," No'bun painfully got up from his seat and walked over to a wall holding a large sized map and noticeably leaving his walking cane behind. His finger descended onto the bottom left of the map and continually to the bottom left of Valm. He tapped it once and said through a rasp voice, "Here."

"Here?" Ian asked, getting up from his seat and walking over to the map to see where the old man was pointing. "Chon'sin?"

"Chon'sin is quite different from most other countries. Though the same could be said for any other nation," No'bun returned to his seat and poured the tea into his and Ian's cups. "It is a feudal country, but peaceful. Small in comparison to it's surrounding neighbors but still a powerful adversary to those willing to fight it."

"So you're from Chon'sin?" The young man inquired.

The old man took a sip and savored the taste before answering "I considered it my home for most of my life… Though the same cannot be said for how they feel about me."

"What happened?" Ian asked.

No'bun stared over the top of his cup and was quiet for a moment. His eyes darted toward the painting of the young man on the table, "Ian, pass me that picture."

Ian looked puzzled, "What?"

"Pass me the picture."

Ian hesitated for a quick second but did what he was told. When he tried to hand the picture to No'bun, the old man merely brushed his advance and tilted his head for Ian to just put the picture down. Once the white haired youth did, the old man eyed the painting before him with almost bitter contempt.

He picked it up and extended his arm out, squinting intensely, "My vision may be failing me, but I can still see that arrogant stare even now."

"Is that you?" Ian hesitantly asked, still standing.

No'bun nodded, "Aye, he is. But not the same person. My, does time change a man."

Ian said nothing.

"Have I told you why you were so interested in learning tactics when you were a child?" No'bun asked.

Ian shook his head, "No, but… I'm guessing it may have to do with my uncle, Jon."

"Partially," the elder said before taking another sip. "It was also because of him," he waved the portrait of his younger self back and forth. "He is the reason why you were so fond of tactics."

"Him?" Ian eyed the picture with suspicion and was about to ask why, but then saw the maps and the miniature flags on the table to his right. It clicked into place and he asked, "You're a tactician?"

"Was," the old man corrected.

When he didn't elaborate on the issue, Ian awkwardly fidgeted on his feet until No'bun took another sip and decided to sit down. He leaned forward in his seat, "What do you mean 'was'?"

"By 'was' I mean I used to be a tactician and now I'm not. Come now, child. It's not that difficult."

Ian's eyes lowered before he facepalmed and let out a grunt, "You know what I mean, old man. Tactician isn't exactly a lowly position. There has to be a reason why you decided to move and live here in the middle of nowhere."

No'bun said nothing.

Ian bit his lip and tried to wait, but when the silence continued to drag on he asked again, "Sir? Uh, old geezer?"

No'bun nodded and leaned back a little, "Very well, I suppose I can indulge you on my story again."

"Again? I mean, yeah. Yeah. If it's alright with you."

"Alright then," the old man chuckled before he took out a wooden smoking pipe and added some tobacco before lighting the pile with a match. "Now, how long has it been? Ah yes, thirty years I believe. But where to begin…?"

* * *

"I am pleased to report that the battle at Oshu Valley is going well, Tactician No'bun. We have won several decisive victories against Aphems on multiple fronts. It is only a matter of time before they crumble under the weight of Chon'sinian strength and your tactical mind."

"Excellent work, En'vo. This pleases me," a middle-aged but more serious looking No'bun marched alongside his assistant toward the royal palace, an impressive structure surrounded by tiers and tiers of walls and moats. Deep in the center of the country's capital.

"The emperor approaches, taichou," En'vo said with an anticipating bowed head.

"I see him, he looks happy. It appears word has already reached him about our progress," No'bun's eyes lowered.

"Hmm."

The emperor approached with a foolish grin, "O' Grand Tactician No'bun! Fie! It is an honor to finally meet you! Fie!" a naïve looking emperor bellowed out with arms wide before getting down on his hands and knees and worshipped the ground No'bun tread upon. "Fie! Fie! Fie! I am not worthy! Fie! The master of men! Fie! A god amongst gods! Fie! Your legendary actions echo across the continent and around the globe itself! Fie! To the heavens! Fie! Please! I offer my first born child unto you for I am not worthy! My wife! My throne! Everything! Fie! Fie! Fie! Fie! Fie! Fie! Fie! Fie! Fie! Fie-!"

* * *

"Hold on a damn minute," a stern looking Ian crossed his arms. "None of that story is true."

"Well he did say 'Fie' a lot. I thought that was pretty annoying," No'bun let out a puff of smoke.

Ian waved away the smoke and grunted before getting up to open a window, "Do you really have to smoke that thing in here?"

"It calms my nerves."

"What nerves? You probably smoked it all away, it smells bloody awful. Speaking of which, what's with the nerve of you to blatantly lie to my face like that? The hell is wrong with you?"

"But it's true-"

"Like hell it is!"

No'bun cocked his head and gave a cheeky grin, "It was only a joke."

"Any more jokes like that and I will beat the snot out of your nose," Ian threatened with an evil grin and cracking knuckles. "A friend of mine taught me how to beat up scum like you."

"Alright, alright, alright. I'll tell you the true story," No'bun laughed and motioned for Ian to sit down again. "Drink your tea, it'll soothe you down."

"No thanks. I like being able to actually breathe air, I'll stand here."

No'bun picked up Ian's cup and offered it forward with a smug grin; Ian looked at the old man with an irritated scowl and continued to stand his ground. But after a while with No'bun unrelenting, the young tactician sighed and picked up the top of his cup with tentative fingers and went back to his spot. He brought the cup close to his face and looked down at the swirls in the golden brown liquid with small bits of tea leaves sitting at the bottom of the white cup. He took a careful sip and almost burnt his lips.

"Oh gods! That's hot!" Ian swore while extending out his hand with the tea and covered his mouth with the other.

No'bun chuckled at Ian's reaction and continued their conversation, "Excellent. So the story about my former position as a tactician and why I came to live here, yes?"

"Some time today would be appreciated," Ian begrudgingly mumbled, setting his cup down on the table behind him.

"Alright then," the old man chuckled before falling darkly silent once more. His smile disappeared and his stare became more stern, more threatening, "For most of my life I've had a particular fondness for tactics and in time I rose through the ranks in the army and was later recognized by the Emperor Tok'shi of Chon'sin himself."

"We grew close, Tok'shi and I," No'bun reminisced but with a hint of sadness. "I almost thought it was friendship at one point, and it might have been. But as my work became more and more stressful, I sought to bring on an apprentice to aid me. I found one by the name of En'vo, a young but chubby sort of man. He, like me, appeared to have a penchant for strategy and I would often find him studying to better himself at it. But I always sensed something dark about him, something sinister. You see he would often go to social events, parties hosted by the upper class. He didn't exactly fit, given both his looks and his position, but he quickly made friends. But also just as quickly made enemies. He turned people against each other, friend against friend, brother against brother, kin against kin. Toyed with them. Misery left in his wake. He specialized in manipulation and he reveled in it."

"I opposed it of course," No'bun shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "But he had his uses, especially in his strategies. Spying, deceit, misdirection. We regularly won battles against armies in the thousands without having to lift a finger, without losing a single man. That was what was important to me; honor be damned if that was what it took. And then honor damned me when I was exiled from my home."

"Exiled?"

No'bun smiled softly for a second before picking up his tea to take a sip, "I should have seen it coming. I was so wrapped up in the victories, the glory. I was arrogant, hubris alone was my downfall. Every time we won a decisive victory, I was praised for my strategies. And while I worked day and night to make sure we were successful, not only through numbers decimated but numbers saved, it was not only through my work alone this came to be. En'vo, despite all of his flaws and his malignant hobbies, worked just as hard as I to ensure our great army brought victory."

"He lived in my shadow, the student unable to surpass the mentor. Received no praise for the many victories he had won and the lives he had saved. Received no title except for "Grand Tactician No'bun's Assistant." Received nothing but enough gold to buy food and to live a regular man's life. He received nothing more, and my arrogance told me he deserved nothing more because I was the veteran tactician whilst he was the lesser apprentice. This continued for years and En'vo grew to resent me for it… And it's to which I can say, I do not blame him."

"What did he do?" Ian asked, his arms now uncrossed and one of his feet inching toward the seat wondering if he should sit down. His mind intrigued.

"What he did best," the old man answered simply. "Lie and deceive. I was out in the forests for several days, finding herbs for alchemy. A little side hobby I indulged in when I had the time. But when I returned I was placed under immediate arrest by the emperor's guard."

"What happened?"

No'bun poured himself another spot of tea, "Tok'shi's firstborn son, Yen'fay, who was only a toddler at the time, had become deathly ill. Through the royal doctor they found out the cause of Yen'fay's sudden illness was due to poison. A near lethal dosage which contained mercury and paralytic properties to simulate a petrified body in death. And knowing how I dabbled in alchemy and how often I spent time around the royal family, I was a prime suspect."

"Those aren't exact grounds to accuse someone of attempted murder," Ian interjected. "And you said the emperor was your friend, why did he accuse you?"

"When your child is in mortal risk it is always natural to want to find the cause, even if it's amongst those closest to you. There were other suspects of course but none match the profile as well as I did."

"Not even En'vo?"

"En'vo hung with nobles, not royals. Partied into the night, not played with potions. No, though he swore fealty to the royal family, he was never close to them," No'bun's wrinkled face hardened. "When I was brought before the court, En'vo acted as my defendant for the case, but try as he might, could not convince the judges of my innocence."

"What?" confusion scrawled Ian's face. "He defended you? Why?"

"I did not know at the time of my apprentice's severe betrayal. Once I lost the trust of my former friend, I clung to that which I considered lesser than myself in my time of need," he gave a chilling smile. "It's amazing who you are willing to trust when you have nothing, how much you are willing to believe."

"What happened then?"

"I was convicted, then sentenced to death," No'bun answered as if it were a simple math equation. "I was locked up in a cage that was smaller than the size of a closet. I could only sit and bend my legs for there was no room to extend them. Left in the dark and waiting for the day to meet my executioner."

"How did you escape?" the young man finally sat back down in his seat, ignoring the smoke from No'bun's pipe and captured by the older man's story.

No'bun smirked, "With the help of a devil."

"A devil?"

The old man chuckled at Ian's expression, "She'd kill me if she heard me say that. There was a woman by the name of Nai'sha who was one of the head guards in the royal palace. A terribly, terribly fierce woman that'd strike fear into any hardened criminal; she was one of the wardens given charge over me during my short time in captivity. Somehow she knew of my innocence, intuition she would always tell me. I did see her often during my time in the palace and during meetings with the emperor, maybe she knew me then. Knew me better than my own friend," No'bun's eyes wandered over to the shrine, toward one of the pictures of a middle aged woman with a stern face and hair in a bun. "She let me go despite knowing she would forfeit all honor and security if she let me loose. Seemed she found more honor in saving an innocent man's life than going through with his execution."

"We escaped Chon'sin and tried to live in various parts of Valm, but the emperor's influence was strong; En'vo had connections all around the continent, so it didn't take them long to find us. It was then I finally realized that it was he who had betrayed me," No'bun continued. "But it was too late then. We took a ship under a different alias, disguises, and arrived in Plegia. Not liking the heat we continued east and came to Ylisse, but we were never alone. Spies followed us when we entered major towns, but through my strategies and Nai'sha's combat prowess we were able to shake them off."

"Paranoia plagued you however and you decided to build a home in the middle of nowhere," Ian calculated, already seeing where the story was going.

No'bun nodded, "It wasn't glorious at first, given how I was a tactician most of my life and Nai'sha a former guard, but we made due in time. We were married in spirit because of our circumstances but we loved each other the same nonetheless. Unfortunately she died a few years before your family's arrival."

"Right…" Ian said, looking back at the shine with the two swords with renewed curiosity. The long, curved blades; the wooden yet reflective sheaths that were unlike most blades except for one he's seen in the past. Both swords similar but different from the other. "I'm guessing those belonged to her?"

No'bun chuckled as he got up and shuffled toward the shrine, "Ah, now we come full circle. No, my wife had only one blade. The one with the blue wrappings on the grip at the upper tier; conveyed more of my wife's hardened yet fluid personality. The other one, the one with the black? That belonged to your mother."

Ian's face fell in disbelief and his mouth opened slightly, "My mother?"

No'bun eased down onto his knees and moved his hands under the sword at the bottom tier of the stand and picked it up. He bowed his head respectfully toward the picture of a beautiful looking woman with long, white hair before passing the sword to Ian.

"Ashen, that was the name of her sword. Your mother wasn't the most creative when it came to names, but it was the only thing your blasted uncle and I agreed with so it stuck. Both on the fact that her sword needed a name and on the name itself. Your mother was a sword master you see, an expert with the blade. All of your knowledge when it came to the sword was from her."

Ian looked down on the seemingly delicate blade with amazement; though it appeared light, the weapon in reality was actually pretty heavy. He tried to mark the similarities and differences he saw from Lon'qu's sword and his mother's.

"This was my mother's?" Ian asked again, still in awe.

"Yes."

"But she was Plegian."

"Aye."

"But aren't these types of swords from Chon'sin?"

No'bun nodded understandingly, "Back then Plegia had an incredible economy because of their shipping industry. They controlled most of the western coast and subsequently traded with Valm because of their unsteady relations with Ylisse. It was common for goods and travelers to come to Plegia in search of something new. Your mother said she had a teacher from Chon'sin when she was a young girl."

"Really now?" Ian inquired conversationally.

"Female swordmasters in Chon'sin are not an uncommon sight because of our low population and our citizens' needs to be ready at any moment. Plegia's population is also relatively small compared to most other countries, but they had more of a luxury with it came to their self-defence," the old man returned to his seat by the table and continued to smoke. "Your mother was a bit of an oddity in that regard, but she didn't mind. In fact she was rather passionate about her sword play. Another fierce woman."

Ian's thoughts traveled back to the day before when he stood in front of his mother's and his uncle's graves, "_September 22, 1576 to February 17, 1619. She died at the age of forty-two and the exact same day Chrom and the others found me. My… supposed birthday," _Ian placed his mother's sword respectfully on his lap and looked up at No'bun who was refilling his pipe. "No'bun, are you sure you don't know how my mother died?"

The elder sighed before placing his pipe back in his mouth and kept his eyes shut, "When I found Laura's body, she had multiple cuts all over her body, but the two most fatal ones were the lacerations on her left neck and right torso. There were bodies all around her, all uniform. A planned ambush it seemed, she fought them back, but…"

Ian watched as his mother's old friend took the pipe out of his mouth and his eyes began to water. He wiped away at the coming tears and tried to cover his face in shame. There were barely any real tears but the young man couldn't help but try to look away in embarrassment, his mother's sword still sitting uncomfortably in his lap.

As the older man wiped away at the tears with one hand, Ian remembered the multiple dreams he had regarding the white haired woman before witnessing her's and Chrom's deaths. The exact same scene, the description, it all matched up. The cavaliers, their swords, her neck, her body, her pale face, her… sword.

The tactician looked down at the sword and his eyes widened as he gave an audible gasp, realizing for the first time that the sword he held was the exact same one his mother used when she died defending herself. The one he witnessed her dropping when she died.

Both men looked down in shame, the room quiet save for No'bun's sniffling.

Once the tears had stopped, No'bun stared at Ian with hardened eyes and sat up straight, folding his arms in more of an authoritative pose, "As much as it pains me to lose everyone that was close to me, I am glad to have you back, Ian. As much as a grandson, you are also like a son to me. One I never had. Do not forget that."

"I won't," Ian replied with a pained whisper.

The older man kindly smiled and looked down on the letters on the table, hinting at wanting to be alone, "Well if you could excuse me, I'd like some time to read over some memories."

"Is there anything I can get for you?" Ian asked.

"No, just some time."

The young man stared for what seemed like an eternity but reluctantly agreed. He evenly rose from the soft cushion on the floor and made his way to the door. With a final glance he saw No'bun gathering the letters with his back turned before he slowly slid the door shut.

* * *

Later again that evening after everyone had eaten dinner and after Ian's horribly failed attempt at cooking, the young tactician was once again sitting in his room and summarizing the events that had happened earlier that day.

He learned a lot about his mother's history, his uncle's, and even No'bun's. And while a tiny part of him was still somewhat skeptical about his past here and that he didn't regain any of his past memories, the house was starting to grow on him.

Everything was starting to make a little bit of sense.

As Ian sat on his bed with only a single oil lantern the room, he heard a familiar sound outside and immediately thought of Marth. Turning around and standing on his knees, the white haired man found his assumption to be correct. There she was again, Marth sitting outside and staring at the stars.

Ian remembered No'bun's tasteless joke about him and Marth and shook his head in annoyance. Deciding to ignore it as best he could, he got up once again and thought about another attempt at conversation with the enigmatic warrior.

* * *

Almost as soon as the tactician stepped outside there was already a sword pointed at him not far from his chest, "Whoa, hold on there. Just me again," Ian said with his hands up and his eyes focusing on the incredibly sharp sword in Marth's hand.

Marth looked down while she embarrassingly sheathed her blade, "My apologies again, Ian. It's a reflex, I'm still unused to having the luxury of safety without having to worry about constant risen attacks."

"They are a considerable worry, even if reports about them have dropped somewhat," Ian mused before taking a seat by Marth's side. "Still, it makes you wonder where they came from. How they started."

Marth became deathly quiet.

Ian took notice of this and wasn't subtle when looking at her this time. Marth's knees were brought closer to her body, her head tilted downward and her eyes in a long, never ending stare; every action spoke to Ian as signs of insecurity, of worry, of fear. The sight was still hard for the tactician to swallow given Marth's usual demeanor. Still, that didn't mean he was incapable of trying to encourage her.

"So… second day here, still haven't run off yet. That's good," Ian said with some cheer.

Marth slowly nodded in affirmation while still keeping her gaze, "It's peaceful here. I rarely get a chance to just sit down and… forget."

Ian chuckled at her statement, "Yeah, though it's the opposite for me. To just sit down and try to remember."

"Have you had any luck?"

"Not in particular, well not on the actually remembering part with memories coming back, but I did learn a bit about my family here."

"What kind of things?"

"Well, like my uncle being a reckless and goofy sort of guy, my mother being a devout swordmaster, and No'bun a former tactician. I'm… grateful I'm a tactician here in Ylisse instead of Chon'sin," he admitted.

Marth cocked her head in confusion, "Why?"

Ian shook his head, refusing to go into detail about the old man and his lack of possession, "Uh, no reason. I'm just glad to be working with Chrom and the rest of the Shepherds. They've been good to me."

Marth paused before averting her gaze and looked down on her blade, "I see..." she whispered.

"What?" Ian asked, noticing Marth's withdrawal.

"Your father, you never mentioned your father," Marth swiftly affirmed herself and erased her vague comment. "Did you ask No'bun?"

Ian titled back a little at the suddenness of Marth's question, but answered nonetheless, "I asked him about that after learning some… unwanted things. Unfortunately he said no. Said even though he was close to my mother like she were his own daughter and was open to him about a bunch of things, the one thing she refused to tell was who her husband was," Ian leaned back and directed his sight toward the sky. "He said he was worried for a while about some bandit breaking into his home and beheading him for stealing his wife, but that never came. Never really asked her about it much, was just glad for the company and a chance to have a family."

The warrior said nothing for a moment but nodded solemnly at the last bit, "I see."

Ian stared at the sullen look Marth had and couldn't pinpoint the source of her melancholic attitude; deciding that it must have been that he set out to finally apologizing.

He heaved a sigh, "Sorry for my attitude toward gramps these past two days. I know I shouldn't be disrespecting my elders like that when I speak, especially to someone who's practically been in my whole life, presumably. But he's just so… so… escentric, you know? Perverted in a lot of ways too. To be honest I was a little worried for you, like I wasn't sure if he was going to do some weird things to you. I know it's stereotyping and he really isn't like that and you can easily handle yourself but... I'm sorry. Sorry for being rude to him," he lamely finished.

Marth looked up and was surprised at the sudden apology from Ian, even more at the reasoning behind it.

"You… were worried for me?"

"Don't take it personally, I know I shouldn't be worried. There are a bunch of girls out there that can easily kick my ass, Sully especially. It's just male instinct I suppose, even if I don't have a good reason for the thinking behind it. Still, my behaviour was unacceptable and I'll try to do better next time, though I don't make any promises," Ian turned and smiled weakly at the girl.

Marth stared for a little while before breaking into a small chuckle and agreed, "Very well then."

Ian nodded appreciatively and turned back to stargazing.

For the longest time the two said nothing, the stars continued to shine and the grass continued to blow. It was as if time stood still and nothing else existed but the tactician, the warrior, and the stars. Ian was only able to recognize some of the constellations; there was the wyvern, right next to the lightning bolt. The open tome right next to the silver spoon… The ooki kawa next to the… akai hata…

"_What on earth? Are those even real words?" _Ian scrunched his face in confusion when the two names rolled off his metaphorical tongue. "_What the hell Chrom? I thought you said there were only two languages, Plegian and Common. Did he lie to me? No, chances are he probably didn't pay attention to his culture or geography lessons when he was a kid, typical Chrom fashion. But still, how do I know those words? Sounds… Chon'sin, I guess? Holy cow, No'bun was telling the truth, he really was from Chon'sin, but does that make his story as a tactician true?"_

Ian shook his head when he remembered his promise earlier, "_No, enough of this. All the information just points to the same thing, I can't be skeptical about the old man anymore. He escaped Chon'sin as a former tactician to here in Ylisse, my family minus my father came from Plegia to live here. In Ylisse. I learned tactics, swordplay, and magic here for nineteen years, in Ylisse… I'm Ylissean."_

A stupid grin spread across his face, "Heck yeah, I'm Ylissean."

Marth turned her head, "What?"

"I'm Ylissean," the proud tactician announced, his grin widening and his confidence growing. "Down to my very core, I'm Ylissean."

Marth looked confused, "But weren't you born in Plegia?"

Ian gave a loud laugh, "My uncle and my mother might have, maybe me too. But I came to this house as an infant, I lived here practically my entire life! I'm more Ylissean than I am Plegian."

Marth bit her lip thinking over what the white haired tactician had just said with lines crossing her face in uncertain contemplation, "...This doesn't add up, that's not what the stories I heard said..."

Ian laughed again, oblivious to what the blue haired warrior had said, "This is great! Oh my goodness it's like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders! I really had nothing to worry about!"

Marth slowly nodded halfheartedly but said nothing.

Ian gave a final cheer before calming down, "Woo."

After several seconds Marth suddenly rose to her feet and Ian looked up puzzled, "Heading to bed?"

"I have some things on my mind and wish to be alone for a while. I will… see you in the morning, have a good night," Marth turned on her heel and just like that was gone.

Ian stared after Marth long after she closed the front door and had the most perplexed look on his face, wondering if he had said something to upset her again. And just like Marth, his good cheer had suddenly disappeared. He grunted, "Hmph, women. I'll never understand them," still despite the abrupt ending, the relief in the boy's head still brought him some amount of joy.

"It all makes sense…" he repeated.

There was a burning which wasn't noticeable at first, but had subtly grew over time until it came across as a painful nuisance. Ian looked down on his hand and was surprised that the purple mark had turned red, glowing like an ominous signal. He quickly got up to his feet and his head rotated in all directions searching for the ghost woman again. A chill went up his spine when a whisper came and he was suddenly afraid, "M-mother? Is that you?"

Nothing.

"Hello?" he called out again.

Nothing but inaudible whispers.

Ian's breathing came across as more ragged the more he searched, his eyes squinting in the dark for any traces of white light; something far away across the plains, something in the distant dark woods around him. Something somewhere.

"Hello?" Ian called out again, the burning in his hand and back being the only sources of heat in his body when everything else had turned cold. Soon the burning was beginning to subside and the red glow had turned back to its dark purple; Ian looked at the back of his right hand and was confused at the suddenness appearance and disappearance of it all. Even the whispers had stopped.

Ian's eyes were glued to the back of his hand for the longest time, afraid to look away. His thoughts turned to the scary, horror literature with the occasional drawings Sumia had lent him when they were back in Ylisstol after the Plegian campaign and was easily freaked out. Ian's breathing stopped and he swallowed in fear, cursing and thinking repeatedly to himself to not turn around.

"_Oh gods, please don't pull this crap on me mom. I just figured it out, I did nothing wrong! If it's for my disrespect toward No'bun I promise I'll apologize to him tomorrow morning. Just please don't kill me!" _

Ian closed his eyes and clenched his teeth and fists, breathing quickly through his nose and was starting to hyperventilate. Deciding against all logic to turn around he gave a warcry that was more along the lines of a girlish squeal.

He opened his eyes and was almost disappointed to find nothing.

The tactician blinked in disbelief and looked around him. Nothing, absolutely nothing. No ghosts, no burning, no whispers, no angry mothers from beyond the grave, nothing. Nothing but the smell of a midsummer breeze.

Ian pursed his lips and decided maybe now was the time to retire, "You know what? Screw this noise, I'm going to bed. Screw ghosts, screw creepy noises and whispers, I'm going to bed and I'm hiding under my damn bed sheets. Hell no, hell no, hell no, oh hell no! Nope! Nope! Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope! I'm done! I'm freakin' done! Shoo ghosts don't bother me! Nope!" and with that the hero tactician of Ylisse hid in his bed and with every single candle in his room lit for the night. He received absolutely no sleep.

* * *

"Ian? Are you alright? You look terrible," Marth said with a worried glance while her sword was drawn as she practiced her swordplay that next morning.

The young tactician muttered a string of unintelligible swears.

"Indeed," No'bun agreed as he sat down next to the pale tactician and took a sip of tea. "It's almost if you've seen a ghost."

"Don't you tell me about no bloody ghost," Ian swore with his legs brought tight against his chest in an upright fetal position. "Nope, ghosts don't bother me. Nope, no siree, bob. No ghosts here."

No'bun pursed his lips and made some smacking sounds with his lips before he put the smoking pipe in his mouth and turned away, "Mmhmm…"

Marth gave Ian another apprehensive look before she returned to her drills.

With both hands placed firmly on the hilt of her blade, Marth took a ready stance with both feet at shoulder width. Her demeanor was calm, collected, and her eyes closed as she felt the cool wind in the pasture overtake her. For several seconds her body was completely still, and then like an exploding flame she rocketed forward with astounding speed.

The only way for Ian to describe the scene was like a high burst of energy, a flurry of strikes all blending together to create a lethal torrent. The way the Falchion replica moved was as if it were a light tree branch instead of the incredibly heavy blade the man knew it was; Marth never stayed in one placed for long and only seemed to go for lethal strikes before quickly switching positions and attacking in another direction.

Ian thought this technique strange and even No'bun himself seemed privy to the blue haired woman's attacks. The older man stroked his chin and seemed to be thinking deeply on the matter until after a couple more watched movements from Marth he spoke, "It would appear our Marth has not seen too many encounters with single fighters."

"What makes you say that?" Ian asked, curious by what the former tactician had to say.

No'bun pointed with the body of his smoking pipe, "Look at her feet, the way she moves is very erratic. She spins and slices and blocks and dodges multiple times in only a few short moments. She is constantly moving and her eyes wander everywhere as if she were fighting a sea of opponents instead of one. If she were her stance would be more stable and her eyes locked to only in front of her."

Ian's lips parted slightly in realization at No'bun's observation, "You're right."

No'bun nodded, "Normally this high burst of energy can be potentially fatal to an inexperienced fighter in the field. Exhaustion would be more likely to kill them instead of the enemy, and yet she just keeps going, as if she has a neverending supply of stamina," he kept his eyes fixated on Marth's movements. "How long has it been since she started?"

"For this?" Ian asked before he thought to himself trying to estimate the time. "I believe she's been doing this for at least ten minutes now."

"Incredible endurance. I have never seen anyone go for so long while asserting so much power behind their attacks," No'bun placed the pipe back in his mouth and took in a long drag. After the smoke cleared out from under his nostrils he looked at Ian with discontent, "How shameful, boy. You've worked with a blade all your life and yet I never saw you work as diligently as Marth here. Your mother would be ashamed if she saw you now."

Ian rolled his eyes, "Again, really? Taking jabs at me for things I don't even remember. This is the reason why I have a hard time apologizing to you."

"Hmm? What was that?"

"Nothing."

No'bun took in another smoke and smiled to himself as he found amusement in the boy's irritation. After several moments of observing Marth's movements, an evil smirk graced the old man's lips and he challenged, "You know, Ian. You may say that I'm taking jabs at you for things you don't remember, however even now you haven't taken any measures to prove me wrong. Here we are, watching Marth training diligently with the blade whilst you sit here like a child afraid of ghosts."

Ian's head perked up at the old man's provocative claim and his jaw locked at the challenge, "...Are you trying to make me fight Marth?"

"I never said that."

A wry smile crossed Ian's lips as he slowly got up and patted the sword at his side, "Fine, I know your game, gramps. I'll play ball. I'll prove you wrong and show you how much I improved after all this time," he then moved forward with his head tall and with enough confidence to inspire an army.

"Don't get beat too bad!" No'bun called after him. "I still need someone to laugh at. Well, on second thought, scratch that! You can get your butt kicked all you want just not until death. Inches from death is fine however."

"Yeah, yeah," Ian muttered to himself as he tried to ignore No'bun's words of encouragement. As he got closer and closer to Marth, all Ian could think about was his past experiences witnessing Marth out in the field. The way she fought off the risen on the first day of his remembered existence, her clairvoyance and skill when she defended Chrom against his would be assassins, and finally during her participation in the last battle in the Plegian campaign. To simply say she was just a skilled fighter was an understatement.

It would be a tough fight, but he was also equally as confident in his own combat abilities.

As Marth began to slow down her movements for a short break, the tactician stopped just a few feet short and waited patiently for her to recover.

When Marth turned up her head, Ian gave a friendly smile and a welcoming nod, "Hey."

Marth nodded back, "Ian."

"Care to spar?"

Marth cocked her head to the side, skeptical at the request, "Are you sure?"

Ian smirked, "Positive."

The woman gave a confident smile back, "Very well then, but I must warn you I don't hold back."

"Lovely," Ian said sarcastically but prepared himself anyway. "Though please remember we are also using real swords here, so any injuries are a real possibility."

"I'm ready," Marth announced as she took her ready stance and gripped her sword to the side of her face. Clearly ignoring Ian's warning.

Ian sighed but broke into a confident grin, "_Alright then, this will be fun. I'll show you old man how much I've improved. She's pretty much just a female Chrom, I've had plenty of experience getting beat downs from him. I'll just dodge her heavy hitters and go for quick-" _

"Aaaagggghhhh!"

Ian's breath was caught in his throat when Marth closed the gap within a blink of an eye, he was able to bring his sword up just in time but only through sheer reflex. The hilt of his steel sword and her blade were caught for a quick second and through the guard Marth simply flicked her wrists upwards in an attempt to tilt her sword forward and bump Ian on his head.

Ian disengaged and brought his sword back and slid by Marth's side as her sword fell down. He turned around and jumped back to create some distance and breathing room but before his feet could touch the ground Marth had already darted forward and slammed the side of her blade into Ian's and knocked him hard to the side.

His body slid across the grass and just as soon he got up was forced back into the defensive as a storm of Marth's swings threatened to tear him to shreds.

"_Bloody hell she's fast! Even Chrom doesn't move that quick! She's more like Lon'qu and I still haven't beat him either! Crap! I didn't expect this!" _

As Marth continued her barrage, Ian was finding it becoming increasingly difficult to keep up with her attacks; not only was exhaustion getting the better of him but even his favorite coat was creating drag that hindered him further.

"_Damn it, I depend too much on magic! I knew I should have sparred more instead of staying cooped up and creating tactical scenarios all day!" _

Marth went for another attack from above and Ian exhaustively sidestepped and leapt back.

The tactician's body was growing more and more weary by the second; his sword and coat also becoming more heavy. Normally in his sparring sessions with Chrom he was able to keep out of his friend's reach and tried to go for quick jabs on his slower but stronger training partner. Though he still lost most of the time, Ian felt he was starting to gain the upperhand in Chrom's fighting style. Power was his friend's technique. For him it was speed.

For Marth, it was both.

As Ian brought his sword up for another block, Marth's blade hit his and knocked it far off into the distance and left the tactician defenseless.

Ian brought his hands up and Marth pointed her sword at his chest and declared, "Yield. "

Ian, though not entirely surprised, was in disbelief. He thought he had Marth's combat style locked down during his short observation with No'bun. The way her feet and her eyes moved, he could have sworn that her recklessness would have been her downfall.

Then he remembered watching her fight with Chrom back at the colosseum and he mentally slapped himself at his forgetfulness.

"Well, good fight. You're not one to take lightly, guess I still have a long way to go before I can consider myself capable with the sword... And tactics," Ian started dusting himself off before he gave a small pause.

"Don't sell yourself short Ian, it was a good match. I had a hard time landing any blows until the end, it's impressive you were able to block so many of my attacks," Marth sheathed her blade.

"Hmm," Ian mused, picking up the sleeve of his coat and stared at the new rips and tears along the sides and arms. "Not all of them it seems, looks like I'll have to fix this guy up again."

Marth's face turned beet red in embarrassment, "Ah, my apologies, Ian! I didn't mean to damage your coat. I must have been too zealous in my attacks, I'm not used to sparring with anyone wearing a coat or without armor."

Ian sighed as he tried to hide his disappointment but was failing horribly, "I-it's alright. It's just my favorite coat. I mean, just a coat…"

No'bun strolled up to the two fighters and gave a hearty laugh, "Oh that was a good fight, Marth! I haven't seen such ferocity in a long time! Such skill! You remind me a bit of Laura when she used to train."

"Oh," Marth blushed at the old man's compliment. "Thank you, No'bun. It warms me to hear of your approval."

No'bun gave an encouraging smile before he turned to Ian and gave a mocking grin, "And you, Ian! I have never seen a man run so fast since my time as tactician and when the enemy forces would tuck in their tails and retreat in fear!"

"Can it, old man," Ian growled. "I don't need none of your sass."

No'bun chuckled one more time before he looked at the rips in Ian's coat, "Ah, will you look at that. You even managed to ruin your uncle's military coat. He must be rolling around in his grave now. Just the thought brings a smile to this old man's face," he gave a happy sigh and then turned around toward Jon's grave and yelled. "Hear that that, Jon? Your coat is ruined! Guess you'll have to buy a new one! I hear they're really expensive, especially since they're out of commission now!"

"Do you always disrespect my uncle's grave like that, gramps?" Ian said as he watched the old man yell toward the stones.

"Only when I'm feeling happy or want to relieve some stress. Some days he even lets me dance on his grave from time to time, well, he doesn't actually give me permission. I think he just flat out says no, but I do it anyway. Oh, but I do make sure not to step on your mother's grave, I wouldn't forgive myself if I did something so disrespectful."

Ian's mouth fell open, "I… I'm not sure if you're serious or not."

No'bun raised his eyebrows suggestively, "Am I?"

"Please don't do that."

Soon after, Marth approached Ian to return his sword with the blade faced down and the tactician took the weapon appreciatively. Marth gave a smile and a nod and just as the three were about to go back inside to make lunch, an intensely chilling scream echoed from across the valley and in that same second the burning in Ian's hand and back exploded in agonizing pain and he dropped to the floor.

"Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!"

"Ian!" No'bun called out worriedly for the first time. "Ian, are you alright? Say something, boy."

"I-it's burning like c-crazy…"

"What is? What's going on, Ian? Tell me!"

"Risen," Marth said coldly, her eyes narrowing on the massive body of undead moving like a cancer across the field. The rotting corpses of former warriors and heroes treading under an evil purple haze, their eyes red and their faces like wax. All wielding the same weapons they used before their deaths. All screaming and crying for release.

"What the hell?" Ian breathed through gasps of pain. "What are so many risen doing here? Reports said that they were almost all wiped out."

"It would seem that the remaining survivors have congregated here. Waiting in the shadows until it is least expected," No'bun hypothesized as he helped Ian back to his feet.

"But why here though?" Ian asked. "Why focus an attack in the middle of nowhere?"

"It matters not what their reasons are. Only that they must be eliminated," Marth marched forward with her sword gripped tightly and her teeth clenched. "They will not pass!"

"Marth are you nuts?" Ian exclaimed now that the pain had subsided. "One against an entire army of risen? You'll die! There's no way you can overcome this, we have to move, now!"

"This scenario does not bode well for us," No'bun muttered while stroking his chin. "Ian is right, Marth. Even with your abilities this task will be impossible on your own."

Ian turned and gripped Marth's arm, "See? Even No'bun agrees, we have to leave."

"But-"

"But nothing, Marth! We have Cinis, we can ride him back to Southtown and warn the local authorities about the risen here."

"That would be the best course of action," No'bun agreed as he lit another smoke in his pipe. "You two lovebirds go on ahead, I'll stay back here and try to hold them off."

Ian and Marth turned back to No'bun with stunned looks of horror. The old man was still calmly smoking on his pipe as if it were another regular day.

"Gramps, are you out of your damned mind!"

"Sir, please, there's no need to sacrifice yourself like this!"

"Don't pull this clichéd crap on me!"

"Peace, you two," No'bun waved them off as the risen continued to approach several meters away. "A horse can carry only so much weight, we will never make it back to town with so many people. And besides," he took in a deep breath and a long drag. "This is my home now, I will not abandon it like I have abandoned Chon'sin. My wife and my family have died here, and just like them, I too will die here."

"No'bun you insane son of a-" Ian swore before he looked back at the risen. "This isn't the time to play heroics!"

"You're right, we don't have time."

"Why are you-? You stupid- Marth, help me convince this senile fool to come with us!"

Marth said nothing, the stone cold fear on her face now replaced with a burning determination.

"Marth?"

The woman in question took a step forward and reclaimed her battle stance from before, "I will not allow another home to be destroyed, another life slain if I can help it. I swore my life to stop the future I have seen and the horrors it has wrought. No more suffering and no more needless death. I will change that future for all."

Ian's face paled at the two stubborn individuals until he too finally relented and took out his fire tome. He sighed, "This is going to end very badly."

"Peer pressure, Ian?" No'bun asked.

"Misery loves company it seems. Fools too. This goes against every fiber in my being but I'll stay too," Ian smirked. "Plus if all of your crazy stories are true, then this place is my home too. I've lived here my entire life even if I don't remember it. I'll make sure it stays so I will."

No'bun stared at what he considered the younger version of both himself and Jon; the mind, stubbornness, and determination all wrapped up into one. And Marth, the young woman he considered to be a second daughter at this point, had the similar qualities of his late wife and Laura that he almost thought it as their reincarnation.

He would make sure that they too would survive.

"Ian," No'bun said after several minutes of tense silence at the approaching undead. "Allow me to be tactician for this battle."

"What?"

The old man smirked, "As much as I have heard about your accomplishments in Plegia and with these 'Shepherds,' it may be best that I take command so you two can focus on the battle at hand.

"Are you sure?" Ian asked with marked hesitation. "Do you even know how the risen fight?"

"I've heard stories," the old man laughed. "Kill the head and you slay the beast, as with all armies. Ah, but we need to eliminate them all, as our dear Marth has said. I wonder how they'll react without the overmind to control them? Will they run or will they become even more unpredictable and slaughter us faster? Oh the possibilities."

Ian continued to stay skeptical but when he turned to the approaching horde, he couldn't help but admit that no scenario he came up with would help them in this situation, not with so little people. Swordsmen, axe wielders, cavalier, and a larger, more sinister looking risen that carried dual axes that towered over the rest. 'Run' was all he could think of.

"Are you confident you can do this?" Ian hesitantly asked.

"Positive," the old man smirked.

Ian bit his lip and his teeth clenched before he finally agreed, "Fine. You take the reins, No'bun. Marth and I will handle these bastards."

"Good," No'bun nodded before he turned back to the clearing by the house. "Your first order then, Private Ian, is to get your horse."

"You're not going to make me retreat are you?" Ian asked, feeling a little offended.

"No," No'bun laughed. "But your horse will prove useful for us, I have a plan that includes both him and you."

Ian hesitated for a second but eventually nodded, "Got it," he then turned on his heel and hurried back to his horse and quickly untied Cinis from his post.

After his unofficial grandson left the field, No'bun turned back to survey the area and began a quick count in his head. Once he was done he called out to Marth whose body was continuing to tense by the second, "Marth, be a dear and go back inside. I need you to grab every single oil lantern that you can find and bring them here."

Marth looked back, confused, "What?"

"Please do as I say, honey. We haven't much time."

Marth hesitated just like Ian for a moment's time before looking out towards the field and gave a curt nod after No'bun called her a second time. As soon as she left Ian returned leading Cinis by the reins and was then sent back inside to aid Marth in her task. In less than a minute the two returned with six lanterns and No'bun ordered them to separate the bottom half containing the oil from the actual lamp.

After the last lamp was separated and the risen forces still quickly closing in, Ian looked up at the elder and asked, "What are you scheming, old man?"

"Ian," No'bun explained as he took off the satchel he was carrying and passed it to the boy. "Fill this bag up and be careful not to spill; those lamps contain kerosene. I need you to ride on Cinis and periodically spill the oil while you are riding from here until you reach that large rock to our right. Once there ride across the field until you reach our far left, then ride back in our direction for several more feet and cut across the field a second time. Continue this pattern until you run out of oil. It should be a zigzag pattern. Do not leave any gaps."

Ian glanced at that area No'bun was referring to and tried to understand the reasoning behind it all. But when he saw the old man point at his fire tome it immediately hit him. The tactician quickly scrambled to his feet with a full bag of bottled kerosene and climbed aboard Cinis.

"Hiyah!" With a yell and a whip of the reins the horse dashed off leaving behind a steady trail of oil.

After Ian and Cinis had left, Marth turned to No'bun and asked what was going on and the old tactician smiled, "One cannot hope to fight an army alone, not even you can accomplish that. But if we were to separate their forces and have them come in waves, then they will become much more manageable to fight. Kerosene is flammable, Marth. And to spread it across a field of grass will help to quickly ignite the flames."

Ian returned with a charging Cinis and every bottle of oil spent. Once the stallion stopped he threw the bag containing the empty bottles to the floor and caused them all to shatter.

No'bun stared at the bag containing the broken glass and his eyes narrowed, "You're going to have to pay for those. Those weren't cheap."

"Later!" Ian rebuttaled before pointing toward the horde. "Has to be at least over fifty or so of them out there!"

"They're almost here..." Marth muttered.

"Wait until I give you the mark, Ian," No'bun refocused his gaze on the risen. "Light when I give you the signal."

Ian nodded and pulled out his fire tome.

The risen army continued to give shrill screams as they approached the wooden home and her three defenders. The kerosene on the grass covered a distance of over several thousand square feet, and once the first line of risen passed the halfway point in the oil painted grass, Ian tightly clutched at his tome as No'bun said nothing.

Third line nearest to them and nothing.

Second line nothing.

Ian looked back at the old tactician with mixed anticipation, impatience and fear gripping him when the signal didn't come. He tried to see the look in the old man's eyes and tried to gauge his reaction, but the old man wasn't looking toward the approaching risen. No, instead he was looking towards the west, toward the left and into the woods as if he was looking at something. Something only he knew existed within the foreboding darkness. No'bun lifted his hand slightly toward the woods and told it to wait.

The risen breached the final line and No'bun said nothing.

"No'bun!" Ian angrily hissed.

Ten of the first risen passed and were fifty feet away when they began the charge.

"Now!" No'bun finally yelled.

In an instant Ian launched a ball of fire toward both sides of the field and the kerosene burst into flames creating a cage and forcing more than half of the risen forces back screaming in frustration. The first wave was unhindered and continued to run their attack.

"We do not have much oil so the walls will not last long. Defeat this first wave and get ready for the next," No'bun warned.

Marth and Ian charged forward toward their enemy and yelled at the top of their lungs for all they were worth. Adrenaline kicked in and fatigue disappeared, and within seconds the skilled fighters destroyed the first wave of risen.

"Ian, take out your wind tome and keep the flames going. Maintain the wall," No'bun ordered.

"On it!" Ian affirmed and launched multiple torrents of wind into the flames and forcing them to build a little up higher.

The second group that was closest to them saw their prey through the blaze and just like an ardent flame, busted through the walls with the cry of the howling damned.

"More this time. Stick together, Marth!" No'bun warned.

"Rah!" Marth yelled as they once again charged toward the enemy with incredible speed.

It was just like back in Plegia when the Shepherds fought against Gangrel's Honor Guard, after Ian lost his sword and was forced to fight using only his hands. After Marth had seemingly materialized out of nowhere and stabbed that Plegian soldier in the back all the while returning Ian his blade. And just like then the two warrior's movements were in sync, back to back and rotating to keep the intellectually slower risen off guard. When Ian attacked low, Marth hit high. And when she sliced down he swiped up.

It was just like then and it was just like Chrom and Ian, like a well oiled machine that sought only the death for those that surrounded them.

The risen surrounded them and the undead had nowhere to escape.

After the second wave fell No'bun yelled out again, "Another wave!"

Ian and Marth yelled their affirmatives when the risen broke through the next inferno and continued their onslaught.

This pattern continued for several more waves. If the bodies of the risen stayed even after their deaths then piles upon piles of undead would have surrounded the two warriors. But still they continued to advance, even the flaming wall forcing most of the animated army back could not hold for long. And yet Ian and Marth continued to fight, fight even after long their bodies had become exhausted and were on the point of breaking.

"Marth, look out!" Ian warned, blocking one of the swings from a slightly burning risen.

Marth responded in kind by decapitating another screaming soldier and shoved Ian out of the way when a risen moved to stab him in the back, "Ian, the wall!" Marth yelled when she noticed the dim in the flames and heads of the remaining undead screaming at them from the other side.

Ian swore and tried to feed the flames with another bolt of wind but was too late. The kerosene oil that had kept the flames alive had all but run out and soon the remaining forces were running towards them not in waves, but in a horde.

Ian and Marth prepared their final stand and was prepared to meet their end when No'bun who had stood back and watched the entire time yelled into the sky and toward the woods. Yelled a name that no one would have expected to hear that very moment.

"Tharja, now!"

Before Ian could even turn his head to voice his confusion, orbs of black matter materialized around the feet of some of the surrounding risen and with a single outburst, detonated in a fulmination of dirt and blinding light.

More than half of the remaining risen forces died in those initial explosions and when Ian turned his head to find the source of the black magic, he was surprised to find the silhouette and familiar revealing garb of the dark mage and fellow Shepherd Tharja, enter the field.

"Tharja?" Ian yelled out in the confusion when the risen returned to their attack.

Dark magic surrounded Tharja's hands as she shot more and more waves of sinister energy toward her enemies, "You made me wait too long, old man. If a single one of Ian's hairs was wasted because of you I will gladly turn your frail body inside out."

"Excellent work, Tharja. I knew I could count on you," No'bun smiled appreciatively but was also surveying the mage's body through half open eyes.

"No'bun! How did you find Tharja here? And Tharja, what the flying hell are you doing here?" Ian demanded after dodging another sword strike. "Did you freakin' follow me again?"

"Oh, Ian," Tharja sighed with an affectionate smile. "Once I heard about your leaving of Ylisstol I couldn't help but try to find you. Of all the days for me to be incapacitated by my work, you go off and leave me behind."

Marth grunted after running two more risen with her blade and cleaved a third in half, "Now is not the time to be talking! Pay attention and fight!"

Tharja growled at Marth for interrupting her reunion with Ian but largely kept her mouth yet. Ian on the other hand mentally thanked the blue haired warrior for her interference.

After more arduous moments of fighting, the fearson risen army that once threatened to overwhelm the pitiful wooden home had almost all but eradicated. Only five cavalier and the risen chief remained.

The chief pointed with the tip of its axe and let out a screaming, ordering all five of the risen riders to go for an all out charge.

Marth, Ian, and Tharja all stood their grounds as the two magic users began firing toward the closer cavalier. Two fell and a third broke through but was quickly cut down by Marth and a fourth by Ian. The fifth roared and threw its spear toward Marth, forcing her to jump out of the way. The risen rider then lept off their mount and the powerful undead mount tried to ram into Tharja as the rider flew onto Ian and pinned him down with multiple attempted strikes at his face.

Marth rushed forward to help her comrade when all of a sudden she was swept to the side by a torpedoing force that cut through the air like a javelin.

The risen chief moved at inhuman speeds and screamed when it threw both its axes at the defenseless old man, "...Kill... the... old... man..." Ian and Marth turned back and simultaneously cried out No'bun's name in terror.

Time seemed to have slow down for Ian as No'bun stared down the face of the abomination, the axes that rotated towards him that threatened to tear his grandfather to shreds. To murder the last remaining member of his family.

"No!" Ian cried.

But in that moment, even after the chieftain leapt into the air and hurled its weapons with its wiry arms, the retired tactician removed something from out of his robes and let out a sly grin, "You know I don't intend to die either, boy."

It was a flash of light, a white enveloping energy that for a moment was even brighter than the sun itself. A spell of thunderous proportions left No'bun's hand and swallowed the risen chieftain whole, the haunted soldier gave a high pitched shriek and evaporated into nothingness. Not even the purple mist that followed a risen's death was seen.

The old man fell to his knees and was struggling to breathe. Ian and Marth stared wide eyed not believing what they had just seen and had momentarily forgot everything else that happened. But that quickly changed when the risen cavalier that was straddling Ian socked the tactician square in the face.

With his face bruised, Ian struggled to fight back but then a veil of black magic surrounded the risen and was violently ripped to shreds, leaving behind both a scream and a stream of purple decay.

Ian looked up and the first thing he saw was the face of Tharja hovering uncomfortably close to his.

"Uh… thanks, Tharja."

The dark mage smiled down on him and extended her hand, "Anything for you, my love."

Just as Ian got up to begin dusting off his coat and to create a little bit more space between him and Tharja, Marth zoomed past the two and went straight to the heaving body of No'bun who was slumped against a wall and giving haggard breaths.

"No'bun? No'bun, sir, are you alright? Do you need a vulnerary?" Marth panicked as she began to rummage through her pockets.

The old man wheezed and coughed but waved the girl off, "No, no. I'm fine. Just exhausted is all. I just- I just need a moment to catch my breath, thank you. Thank you, no, Marth," he waved off the vulnerary away a second time.

Ian moved up and examined No'bun as the old man continued to slowly recover, but from the corner of his eye he saw a yellow-brownish tome depicting a spear with lightning bolts on the side. He bent down to pick the book up and even though No'bun gave him an exhausted but still annoyed glare he flipped through the pages, "This tome… it's Thoron."

"It's also mine," No'bun argued while extending his hand for the book back. "I also remember teaching you not to take things that don't belong to you."

Ian complied and wordlessly passed the tome back and watched as the old man laggardly returned the spell-book back into his robes, "Why didn't you tell me you knew magic?"

"A tactician can't give away all of his secrets, can he?" No'bun held a cheeky grin but the smile fell. "Didn't think it was important."

"Could have been a lot of help during the fight."

"At this age?" the elder scoffed. "You saw just now. One spell was enough for me to try and take a nap, I'm not going to be waste time sleeping when there is a battle to be had."

"Yeah but… still," Ian sheepishly finished.

No'bun shrugged.

Ian bit his lip but decided not to press the issue further. He did however turn back to Tharja and demanded why she was here.

"I already told you, Ian. I came here because you are here. Never will I dare allow my eyes to leave you ever again," Tharja said with a blush and wrapped her cloak tightly around her chest.

"Great…" Ian groaned. He turned back to No'bun, "And you, how did you know Tharja was here and how do you even know who she is? I don't remember mentioning her to you."

The elder laughed, "I only found her yesterday, hiding in the woods. I had a strange feeling something was amiss so I snuck up on her while she was busy staring at the house. I covered her eyes and pulled the ol', 'Guess who it is?' trick."

Tharja growled at the thought, "Never touch me ever again, old man. You're lucky I didn't curse you into oblivion on the spot."

"You snuck up on her?" Marth asked, looking amazed.

"He must have hid himself with some kind of masking curse," Tharja muttered.

"Nope," the old man happily laughed. "You were so enthralled looking at the house that I could practically see the red in your cheeks. You should pay more attention to your surroundings," he paused and a wicked smile spread across his lips. "Though it did give me some time to admire your-"

"Silence, fool."

Ian couldn't help but facepalm at his grandfather's perverted comments, but chuckled quietly to himself shortly afterwards when he realized what they had just accomplished. That they had just pulled off the impossible.

"We did it guys..." he grinned.

Marth gave a similar exhausted smile and nodded, "Yes we did…"

"Come on, gramps," Ian bent down and brought his shoulders under one of No'bun's arms. "Let's get you back inside."

Marth did the same, "Please get some rest now, okay?"

"Oh you're such a sweet child, Marth. What would I do without you?" No'bun beamed happily and Ian rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, Tharja, come inside too. We'll find some kind of sleeping arrangements for you," the younger tactician invited.

Tharja stared for a moment's time, stunned with what she just heard but then eagerly followed, "Of course, Ian. I'll follow you wherever you go."

"You can sleep in my room," No'bun suggested.

"No, gramps," Ian cut him off which caused the old man to laugh further.

As the four made their ways inside the home after successfully defending against the risen onslaught, a painful tingling manifested itself in the old man's hand; the cheer left No'bun's eyes for only a second but he said nothing. His only reaction that day was laughter, laughter because of the joy that they all survived.

That even an old fool like him survived.

Even if for just another moment.

* * *

**Well, this chapter is finally done. For the most part this chapter has been mostly stuff I came up with while writing. Very few of these parts I actually planned before hand would be in this story. This was probably the first chapter where I didn't know how it would start and how it would end, so I guess that was a big factor in the delay for this chapter. **

** For this October I will be focusing on a mini-project in regards to this story and the Libra/ Maribelle trip that is also going on during the two year time skip. It's going to be a separate story about two chapters long and hopefully, hopefully I get the first part done by next week. Again, don't hold out too much.**

**At the moment I don't know what other notes I'd like to add as it's 2:30 in the morning and I'm pretty tired so I'm going to leave this here. I'll correct the mistakes in the author notes later. Well, as always, leave a review on your thoughts, take care everyone and have a good one. **


	12. Chapter 11: I'm the Fury in Your Head

**Chapter 11: I'm the Fury in Your Head**

"Calm your breathing, Ian. Do not be fooled by the lack of a sword; you will tire easily if you put too much energy into each move," No'bun warned as he sat outside the small home, watching Ian focus on the hand movements he had taught him so many years ago.

"I know, I know. It just feels so liberating to fight like this. Gods I'm so much faster on my feet now! Hah!" Ian went back into his original stance; both fists were held out in front of him and his feet spread out wide, rocking back and forth to keep his movements fluid. He controlled his breathing for a few moments before performing a quick roundhouse kick and rotated back to step one.

It had been roughly a week since Ian arrived at the old home in the middle of nowhere east of Southtown. Soon after his arrival he ran into Marth, a mysterious warrior who only seemed to appear at the most random yet convenient of times and had arrived in the plains searching for someone of unknown interest. And then afterwards into No'bun, an old retired tactician from Chon'sin who acted like both a father to Ian's late mother and a grandfather to the white haired youth himself. And finally the appearance of Tharja, the dark mage from Plegia who was infamous amongst the Shepherds for being a tad sadistic and having an irrefutable infatuation with the group's tactician. She managed to show up near the end of the battle with the risen that were attacking No'bun's home and had allegedly followed Ian by sneaking a strand of his hair and creating some sort of hex to keep track of his whereabouts.

All three characters appearing in Ian's life now all of a sudden had been bizarre to say the least. In fact there were times when Ian was alone or lying in his bed at night that he would sometimes compare theses circumstances to some kind of scene in a comedic play Olivia would occasionally talk about. And yet, even though the events were a bit outlandish for the boy's tastes, it didn't mean they weren't enjoyable.

Ian finished his last set of moves and calmed his breathing. He picked up a towel that was laying around on an area of ground not destroyed by craters or burnt grass and wiped the sweat from his face before walking over to the trio with a satisfied grin, "That was fun."

"You're still rusty it would seem," No'bun commented. "You put too much force into each punch."

Ian shrugged, "Two years of no practice will do that to you. Or maybe I've gotten stronger and caused more force to come behind my punches, have you thought of that?"

"That is an argument of an amateur."

The young man rolled his eyes at No'bun's criticism before turning to Marth who had been observing his practice for some time now.

"So, what do you think, Marth? Think you may be interested in learning?" Ian asked.

"It's a… brutal fighting method. I've only fought with a sword my entire life," Marth sadly admitted. "I'm unsure whether I can master such a skill."

"Oh it won't be too bad, I'll teach you. We have all the time in the world to practice."

An indecisive expression tugged at the edge of Marth's lips as she played with the thought, her left hand lifted ever so slightly so her thumb could trace the pommel of her sword. She was clearly uncomfortable with the thought of abandoning her weapon.

"...Perhaps another time," she slowly proposed.

Ian shrugged at Marth's decision and decided to let it go, "Alrighty then. Your choice."

"I'll be happy to have you teach me," Tharja said with a sly grin as she closed the book she was reading shut. "And perhaps I can teach you a thing or two about the dark arts.

Ian gave pause at the dark mage for a moment before he respectfully declined, "Uh, no thank you, Tharja. I'll pass, on both accounts."

Tharja gave a slight glare at Ian and then a larger one at Marth. As the blue haired warrior nodded appreciatively at the tactician No'bun decided to speak up, "So, aside from ignoring my advice and turning down women; what other plans or misdeeds do you have planned for the day?"

"More or less the same, I suppose," Ian said. "Reading manuals, do some training here and there, go over the letters a few more times. Just going over the routines to get my memory back."

"Is it common for someone to never recover from amnesia?" Marth asked idly after she had stopped fidgeting with her sword, now that she knew she wouldn't have to part with using it for now.

"Not really, especially if the memory loss is natural," No'bun mused, stroking his chin. "However if unorthodox means are used, say, magic or potions, then it is entirely possible."

"Magic, eh?" Ian thought outloud. "You think I may have lost my memories by practicing magic and 'donging' my head too hard with a spell?"

Everyone paused to stare at Ian and his strangely worded phrase.

"Ah, no," No'bun awkwardly coughed, breaking the silence his grandson didn't even notice had occurred. "Unless you all of a sudden became a magical genius and conjured up a spell such as Thoron and then hit yourself and then became stupid, which looking at you now may not be outside the realms of reality-"

"Hey!"

"But that is an outlandish case. It would require a bit of potent dark magic to conjure up a spell capable of amnesia. And I was only able to teach you anima magic."

Ian blinked at the old man's comment about dark magic and had to resist the urge to look at the mark on his right hand. Tharja took notice of his hesitation and softly stared with empathetic eyes.

"It may not be as outlandish as you think…" Ian began, speaking slowly and with a small hint of fear.

"Oh?" No'bun asked.

The young man's shoulders visibly rose before they dropped and he heaved a sigh, "It's nothing. Don't worry about it. Just me being stupid."

The old man raised a brow at his grandson but decided to say nothing further on the matter.

"Well, how about you then, my lovely Tharja? Going to make some deadly hexes of insurmountable evil? Potions capable of eternal youth? Or even…" No'bun's face turned to a shade of perverted red as his two nostrils flared. "Doing sexy poses out in the middle of the field and saying, 'Oh! Don't look at me! I'm too embarrassed!' But actually wanting me- I mean Ian to look!" the old man hugged himself while making kissy faces as well as blushing heavily and having the biggest grin on his face.

"What in the world are you on about?" Ian deadpanned.

Tharja's stare lowered into a vehement glare, "What I do is none of your business, old man," she said in a venomous tone which only seemed to excite the elder even more. "And even if I were to show my… my…" Tharja paused, clearly embarrassed by the thought in her head. "I wouldn't let you see it! Only Ian is allowed!" she ended her rant with a blush that could only rival Olivia's.

"Gee, thanks," Ian said sarcastically.

No'bun practically squealed and gave his grandson an indiscreet thumbs up and a wink. Ian just simply shook his head and sighed.

The old man guaffed when Tharja began to pester Ian with questions regarding her attractiveness and what kind of women the tactician was interested in. As No'bun turned his attention when Ian threw a fit, he saw Marth looking forlornly at the sword at her hip. She was quiet despite Ian's cries in the background.

"And you, Marth? What do you plan to do?" No'bun asked.

Marth took notice of the elder's more serious tone and stopped. She took her hand off her sword and opened her mouth as if to say something, but stopped when she saw the face of the old man. He stared with a curious twinkle and Marth didn't dare answer her thoughts.

"I…"

"Wait, No'bun," Ian loudly interrupted, effectively cutting Marth off. "Why does it have to be specifically dark magic that causes amnesia? Shouldn't anything capable of giving me a concussion be enough to give me amnesia? Regular magic included?"

No'bun turned to answer Ian's question, leaving Marth with only a stunned look and an eventual sigh of relief.

"Everything's a possibility, I suppose," No'bun began slowly. "Dark magic is known to be the strongest form of manipulation and is easy to get wrong. You could have shocked yourself with a thunder tome but…" he then went into a deep, long pause. Stroking his chin and becoming quiet all of a sudden.

Ian raised a brow while he waited for the old man to continue, "But…?"

"But it's the only one that makes sense…"

"What makes sense?" Ian asked impatiently, quickly becoming tired of No'bun's nonsense.

No'bun stared at Ian which caused the young man to give pause; even both Marth and Tharja became still in anticipation for the senior's answer.

It came in a low whisper, "The destruction in the woods. North of here. A crater, larger than any I have ever seen. Unnatural. I found it not long after you disappeared."

Ian stood still, unsure at the cryptic message of the old man's words, "What?"

"Dark magic," No'bun said. "Traces of dark magic permeated the air. It was… intoxicating."

Ian's mouth slowly opened, his jaw stuck at the revelation of this new information. There was something, a link to his disappearance two years ago. Instead of trying to rediscover the lost jumbles of his memories which pretty much spanned throughout his entire life, he should have been focusing on what was the cause of his amnesia in the first place. And that would mean…

"The day I disappeared..." Ian repeated in a low tone. He blinked, realizing that only now No'bun finally told him this information.

"Wait, why the hell did it take you so long to tell me this?" his tone rose, greatly annoyed by No'bun's delay.

"I… I didn't-" No'bun began with a stutter.

Ian marched over to his coat where he left it lying around and began to ignore whatever answer his grandfather may have given. He put on the coat and turned to Tharja and stared at her with eyes that never before had looked at her with such hunger, "Tharja, you said you wanted to teach me some dark magic in return for some lessons?"

"Y-yes," Tharja said, clearly unused to the amount of enthusiasm Ian was showing her, directly at her. "I know every single text on dark magic imaginable: Hexes, curses, blood, unholy, frost… Whatever you desire I'll teach you."

"Good," Ian grinned before doubling back and facing No'bun, "Where the hell did you say this bloody crater was at?"

"I… I…"

"North, he said it was north," Marth answered, looking at No'bun with worry at the man's sickly behavior.

"North, got it," the young tactician repeated with much excitement. "Tharja, grab your books, we're finding this damn crater."

"As you will, my love," Tharja swooned.

"Wait, I don't think-" No'bun began when he was finally able to recollect his thoughts. But with that Ian and Tharja disappeared to the side of the house, and soon afterwards they saw Cinis neighing and gallop away through the valley.

No'bun stared at the woods Ian and Tharja had disappeared too, dumbfounded by how quick the situation had deteriorated. Marth cautiously approached him and asked him what was wrong. No'bun turned around, not even realizing he had stood up from his seat and was without his cane while at a loss for words.

* * *

"Tharja, can you sense any dark residue in the air? Woods are becoming a little thick."

"Barely," the dark mage replied, hiding her growing blush as her arms wrapped around Ian's torso while they rode upon Cinis's back. "It's extremely faint. If I wasn't looking for it I might not have noticed. "

"So No'bun was telling the truth then," Ian thought out loud, tugging on Cinis's reins and commanding the horse to jump over a fallen log. "Damn it, what a waste of time trying to recover lost memories. If he had told me about this sooner I might have had them back by now!"

"He's a senile old fool, Ian," Tharja cooed, tilting her head forward and slowly gliding the tip of her nose along the nape of his neck. "But what is important now is that we're together. Alone."

"Focus Tharja," Ian snapped.

The dark mage gave a low growl, "...Fine."

Several more minutes of silent riding passed and very soon the woods began to turn thicker, eventually slowing Cinis down to a trot. Everything was a dark brown with green in the treetops, just as a normal forest should be. But there was a certain dread in the air and just like the surrounding trees, Ian felt something closing in his lungs and making it harder for him to breathe. He wasn't sure if it was the apprehension or the excitement in the upcoming discovery, perhaps it was the dark magic Tharja felt in the air. But for something to have lasted for so long, more specifically two years, it must have been something powerful.

_"Was that the power that resulted in the loss of my memories?" _Ian asked himself.

More quiet moments passed when Ian thought aloud, "I should have asked him about the size of the crater."

"Hmm?" Tharja hummed amusingly.

"It could be a small hole, or something expanding the size of an entire field. If it's the first then we can easily overlook it and miss it. But if it's the latter," Ian asked. "Then how could it have gone unnoticed for so long?"

Tharja's face hardened, "We won't miss it."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Don't you feel it?" the mage asked as she straightened her back, opening the distance between her and Ian. He felt her fingers no longer holding onto him as she wrapped her arms around her own torso and whispered, "That tingling in your spine? The numbing of your sensations but feeling an acute sense as if someone were pressing a knife to your neck? The fear. The dark. The… cold. Do you not feel it, my love?"

"...Should I?" Ian asked hesitantly.

"Your horse certainly feels it."

Ian peered down at Cinis's, the beast was showing very subtle signs of panic, something that was incredibly unusual for the normally well-worn and stoic steed.

"...We must be getting near," the tactician theorized. "Come, Cinis. Hiyah!"

The horse was whipped into motion and Ian leaned forward all the while directing Cinis clear of any debris and forest brush. Soon after several minutes of sprinting Cinis came to a halt, refusing to move any further.

"Cinis, what are you-?"

"It's..." Tharja clenched her eyes tight as stress lines were scrawled across her face. "It's near. It's... here."

Ian looked back, worried, "Are you alright, Tharja? Do you need to turn back?"

"I'm fine," she panted. "I just need a moment. The- This power. This... mere residue. It's so strong that it is almost... delicious..."

The man's eyes lowered. "Don't you go all psycho on me, Tharja."

"I-I'm fine. Do not worry about me."

Ian gave a few more seconds to truly see if his partner was fine, but once she gave another dismissive wave he turned back to the parting of trees before him. Leaving Cinis by a nearby brush despite the horse's violent protests, the duo hesitantly walked forward.

Checking over his shoulder Ian could tell something was wrong with Tharja, or to say, she was acting more lively than normal. This may have been the power of the dark magic in the area or perhaps more innocently it was his mere presence that caused her arousal. Nonetheless it put the tactician on edge.

Several more paces in Ian could finally see the trees parting almost fully. The sun was hanging perfectly in the sky, making it difficult for him to see and as he got closer he heard a voice.

"Stop."

Ian paused and turned around to see the intoxicated mage suddenly turn shivering with fear.

"Don't go any further."

Ian's brows furrowed and he looked between the final opening in the woods and Tharja, "What are you talking about?"

"It's… It's…" Tharja chewed at her lip and growled. "It's not safe over there."

"What in the world are you talking about?" Ian repeated. "A moment ago you were excited about seeing this crater."

"When?"

"A moment ago."

"How long ago was that?" Tharja asked with an almost docile tone.

Ian's paused with confusion and his lips parted slowly, "What?" he turned around. "What the hell is going-?" he hesitated before suddenly bursting through the last row of trees as Tharja cried after him.

When the light had cleared and it no longer hurt to see, Ian stood awestruck at the edge of an enormous pit spanning the size of a small village. Dirt, debris, and ash littered the wasted land and the trees surrounding the crater were dead, blackened by fire and their leaves burnt to a crisp. From the edge, the highest point in the elongated hole, Ian could have jumped down and easily have another meter above his normal height.

Ian stepped forward and realized that the crater was not natural. The curves and the circle were so smooth and so perfect, they contrasted heavily with the dead forest around it. The sheer magnitude and size told of something incredibly powerful, and yet aside from the immediate destruction and outskirts of the crater, the rest of the forest remained untouched. It was as if a singular, omnipotent force appeared, left it's mark, and vanished all within the same instant.

Though humbled by whatever this force was, Ian couldn't feel the dark magic in the air Tharja had talked about. However, he did have a sense of dread as if something terrible had happened here. He peered across the dead plain and felt normal; perhaps he wasn't as in tune with the darker forces as Tharja was or maybe the magic was so beyond him that just like a simple villager he could not even perceive the intensity around him.

Landing with a small hup, Ian strode across the waste until finally reaching the center. He stopped and looked around, waiting for something to happen. He waited for a sense, a tingle, a vision, waiting for something until he finally felt… nothing.

His head rotated back and forth on his shoulders, stumbled around himself in that perfect circle as if something was going to happen sooner or later.

"Are you serious...?"

"I came all this way! I waited for so long!" Ian's knees hit the dirt and with his bare hands clawed at the earth, digging and snarling all the while swearing profusely into the sky. "I worked so hard! I killed, I fought, I begged! I did my bloody job! I stayed up through nights! I freakin' read books! Read letters! Ate, slept, lived here! I did everything! What the hell do you want me to do!?"

"The signs! I followed the damn signs! Everything! No'bun! I found him! Why can't you let me bloody remember!" his hands rose toward the sky and came crashing down as dirt and mud permeated the crying man's nails and palms. He threw the dirt around him with all of his might in every which direction. He howled in agony and screamed in frustration, screaming toward the gods and all around him. He kept screaming until his throat could take no more, making his voice hoarse.

As the dirt landed around and on him and as the dust drifted into his lungs, Ian coughed through his sobs, feeling as though the world was mocking him for his efforts. Tears rolled down from his eyes and he felt nothing but absolute defeat as his mind went blank. Nothing but the sounds of his whimpers and his weeping spirit.

"I wasted an entire year learning how to ride a bloody horse damn it…"

For several moments Ian sobbed. He stayed there on his knees with his head tilted back facing the heavens and his arms limp at the sides. The sky was blue and clouds lazily rolled through the atmosphere. Nothing was rushed and the world seemed perfect.

His breathing slowed and from the corner of his right eye he saw movement. Ian slowly turned his head and glared at the familiar sight, "Now you finally decide to show yourself," he spat.

The ghost, the spirit of his mother, the shimmer, the concentrated reflection of light, whatever it was appeared from the trees not far from where Ian had originally entered. And though he normally would have been excited to finally see another clue to his past, the boy just simply sat, spiteful and staring at the approaching sprite.

However something seemed different about this apparition. It was faster than the others. It moved with purpose. This one appeared to be… running.

Ian paused, confused.

The closer the apparition got, the more Ian was able to see of their features. The spirit appeared to have short hair, hinting at a male. On his body was a coat which was hauntingly familiar to the one Ian wore.

It didn't take him long after that to realize what he was looking at, "You're kidding me…"

The ghost or memory of Ian held his side as if it were bleeding, his misty face was filled with anguish and worry. He appeared to be limping and when he looked back he suddenly tripped and fell. The ghost quickly recovered however and made it's way to where the present Ian was.

Ian quickly stood up and took a step back when the ghost fell before him, hearing his sobs and uneven breathing. He looked at his past self wide eyed and his vision became distorted. Ripples and flashes blew up before him and he heard distorted voices of men yelling in the background.

All of a sudden Ian was back in the forest where there was no room to move, the crater was gone and all around him were bushes and vegetation. Echoes of voices and swishing sounds reverberated off inside his head and the markings on his hand and back began to pulse.

Ian peered down at his past self and gasped when his past self stared back; his eyes charged in a crimson red.

"What the hell is-?"

The ghost vanished into a smoky haze, leaving Ian completely alone feeling both tremendously nauseous and with a pounding headache. He closed his eyes in response to the pain but when he opened them once more the world had shifted to night; he stumbled around, discombobulated and when he felt something wet slide between his fingers, the tactician had to fight back a scream when he saw that the dust had turned to blood.

Three more spirits seen through the forest were rushing toward Ian. And when he blinked they multiplied to ten. Blinked again and they reversed back to three. Three then ten. Ten then three.

Three.

Then ten.

Three.

Then ten.

Three.

Then ten.

Three.

Ten.

Three.

Twenty.

They called out.

"Ian-!"

"Where is he?"

"Do not let him escape! The high priest will have our heads if he does!"

"Ian!"

"Find him!"

"Boy, what are you doing out there? And why did you leave poor Tharja by herself? She was fraught with worr-"

"Grab him!"

"No!" Ian heard himself scream. He did not know what was happening or why, but as he lifted his right hand to cast a spell at the people after him, the very visible mark opened up and a mass of dark energies ruptured from his fingertips, engulfing the land and causing the entire world to explode.

Ian's vision darkened and he could have sworn in the background he heard Marth scream.

* * *

_Huff… Hah… Huff… Hah... Huff… Hah… Huff… Hah…_

_Huff... Huff... Huff... Huff... Hah…_

I remember running.

_Tss. Ha. Tss. Ha. Tss. Ha. Tss. Ha…_

But I don't remember for how long.

_Hah… Hah... Hah… Hah…_

Could have been seconds. Minutes. Hours. Most likely minutes. Seconds are way too short and anxiety always seems to make time longer than it actually is.

_Hah… hah… Tsss… Hah…_

It was dark out and I remember looking back, shortly before I tripped.

_Argh…!_

Must have been a branch.

_Oof!_

I hit the ground hard and I quickly tried covering my mouth and biting my tongue.

...

I was scared, ya know?

I remember the ground being dusty. My knuckles were scratched, knees scraped, and belly cold. My head hurt from the fall and tears fogged my vision. I heard voices in the background. Angry, predatory voices, shouting and yelling for me. Demanding I come out and turn myself in.

I didn't.

I stayed there, quiet, with a hand over my mouth and eyes tightly shut. I heard the bandits approach, but I said nothing. Not when they were near, nor when they were on top of me and breathing down my neck. Not a peep, not a word. Not even a single, single breath. It was like being a child all over again and the only protection from the monsters in the closet was your favorite blanket. But soon the voices and the boots passed, and the monsters were gone.

For the next hour I stayed there. Lying in wait, dying with fear. Never in my entire life had I been so afraid.

_Huff... Huff... Huff..._

It was chilly, but not in the way you'd expect. I put my head down and sobbed into the dirt, because that was what I was, dirt.

_I'm sorry…_

I loathe that feeling.

Losing a loved one is very similar to losing a part of yourself. But to lose someone because you failed to protect them is like having a part of your soul ripped out and turned against you.

I remember her snow white hair and the way it fell in the wind. The droplets of blood as they trickled down her neck. The sense of helplessness and despair as I turned coward and ran.

What a terrible memory.

Eventually I picked myself up and decided to return to the bloody fields. I couldn't tell you why my legs carried me as well as they did, but I ran back with both the sense of dread and excitement of a child.

Yes, I remember all this. And I also remember that sight. That beautifully haunting sight; the smoke and ash. Orange and red shaded with black. The sight of your loved ones, your family, your home, everything. All of it, all up in flames.

It was marvelous.

I remember it all, every detail and every sting. Forever burned into the back of my mind, just like that inferno.

Oh yes, I remember that night.

...

Do you?

…

No.

* * *

The first thing Ian saw when he opened his eyes was the looming silhouette of a woman's face staring down at him. And while he thought of Lissa back when he first awoke in that field all those years ago, it became clear to him that it wasn't the bright blonde and yellow princess, but instead the dark brooding brunette that was Tharja.

"Ian," the dark mage said softly with a hint of relief in her voice when he awoke.

Tharja leaned back in the chair she was sitting in and Ian groaned as he slowly rose from his bed. He was shirtless and he felt a painful cringe in his head as if someone was pounding a hammer against his skull, "Ugh, damn my head, it hurts. How long was I out?"

"For almost the entire day," Tharja answered as she turned her head toward the window right above Ian's bedside; the stars were already out and a single candle at Ian's desk was the only thing lighting the room.

"The entire day?" He repeated in disbelief.

Tharja nodded before she placed a hand on the tactician's chest and slowly eased him back toward his pillow. Her hand lingered for a moment longer than necessary before she finally relieved the pressure, "I was so worried I was going to lose you. When you wandered off ahead of me I couldn't follow. The darkness was so strong I… I thought I would never see you again."

Ian craned his neck to look at his unexpected caretaker and replied with an awkward tone in his voice, "Well… I'm back now. So you don't have to worry about losing me, I guess,"

"I'm never letting you out of my sight again," Tharja announced with staunch resolution, taking one of Ian's hands with both of her's and placed them firmly against her chest. "Wherever you go I will follow."

Ian blushed profusely before hastily taking his hand back, "Please don't."

From down the hall Ian could hear the sounds of a ticking grandfather clock. The slow monotonous beat eventually began to reveal to Ian that the only ones in the room was him and Tharja. Neither Marth nor No'bun were present.

"Tharja."

"Yes?" The dark mage hummed.

"Where's Marth and No'bun? It's awfully quiet in here."

Tharja's face darkened for a second, almost as if pained by the tactician's question. Her raven colored hair awning her eyes, "The others are in another room. Marth is… taking care of the old man."

"What are you talking about?" Ian asked.

"It wasn't your fault," Tharja began, much to Ian's confusion. "The dark magic in the air I told you about. You weren't yourself. When we approached you… you. It was as if you were possessed."

"Tharja," Ian sat up, causing another headache but quickly decided to ignore it. "What the hell happened out there?"

Tharja clenched her teeth, internally debating whether or not to answer her beloved's question or risk hurting him further. But when she saw his face gradually move closer to her's without him realizing it, the dark mage's face turned crimson and she quickly backed away.

"You attacked us!" Tharja confessed. "When we found you you yelled 'No!' and attacked us! The old man took the brunt of the attack and now he's in his room receiving treatment from Marth."

Every part of Ian's body froze and he experienced the very palpable sensation of his heart drop. He felt his exhale stop mid breath when he finally noticed that parts of Tharja's revealing suit was ripped and tattered in multiple locations.

"I... did that?" He said before his thoughts returned to No'bun. "No…"

Ian ripped the bed sheets off him and burst into a sprint out the bedroom door and down the hallway. Ignoring both the headache and Tharja yelling after him for the second time that day.

Everything was dark in the entire home except for small bits of candles that barely offered any light. The run down the tiny hall felt like an eternity and even the light coming from No'bun's room was nothing more than a flicker, "No'bun!" Ian called when he rounded the corner and into the old man's room.

The bedroom had the same shade of shadow and meager lighting as his own. As Ian entered the room he saw the silhouette of a woman on her knees right by the side of No'bun's bed. The candle was right behind the woman which allowed her outline to flare orange and red but the rest of her features were hidden by the darkness. A hand was resting limp outside the sheets of the futon, reflecting the light from the candle and was ominously still.

Marth turned her head to see Ian standing hesitantly by the sliding doors, his face fraught with worry and fear. She stared at him with an almost neutral glare for a few seconds before she rotated her head back toward No'bun's resting body; Ian bit his lip and gulped at the heavy atmosphere. For a few more moments he stood there until eventually he slowly made his way to Marth's side and carefully fell down to his knees.

"How's he doing? Is he alright? Is he awake right now?" Ian asked with a small crack in his voice.

Marth said nothing as she let out a small breath and was debating on what to say when No'bun's handed lifted slightly and he said in a hoarse whisper, "I'm awake."

"No'bun?" Ian leaned forward and crawled forward as Marth decided to scoot back to allow the tactician some room. "H-how are you? Are you holding up fine? How's the damage? I… I'm so sorry, Tharja told me what happened. I don't know what came over me, I'm so sorry-"

The old man took ahold of Ian's hand and squeezed and though the light from the candle failed to illuminate No'bun's face, hidden in the darkness he gave a weak smile, "Peace, I am alive. Do not fret."

"How are you feeling?"

"I am alive," No'bun began. "I am well. My body may be damaged but my mind is my own, it is whole. But how about you, Ian? My main concern is you. How are you feeling?"

Ian opened his mouth to speak but closed it and bowed his head in shame. He brought both hands to cover his mouth and closed his eyes, sounding as though he were on the verge of tears, "I am so, so sorry. I'm-"

"Shh. Shh. Shh," No'bun hushed, motioning his hand for Ian to come closer. "Come. Come here, boy. Come here. Do not cry, no more tears. There you go, there you are. I'm alright, see? I'm here, I'm alive."

"Grandpa…"

Ian clung onto the only living family member left in his life. The old man smelled of a strange medicinal ointment whose sensations seemed to overwhelm Ian's nostrils; the scent felt minty and cleared any sinuses the boy may have had. The smell permeated Ian's nose and parts of No'bun's body where the medicine was applied felt sticky under Ian's embrace. This only made him hold on tighter, afraid to let the old man go as he buried his face into his neck.

"Grandpa…"

No'bun smiled and rubbed his grandson's naked back despite the pain the embrace caused him. As Ian continued to hold him however, No'bun looked up to see Marth glaring at something, her eyes wide in shock and surprise. Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly and her right hand twitched as it crossed her body and toward her sword. No'bun followed her gaze and realized she was staring straight at Ian's back.

As Marth's hand gripped the handle of her sword, No'bun raised up his free hand while Ian continued to hold onto him, oblivious to the developing situation. The retired tactician's hand was raised, poised as if he were preparing to fire upon the blue haired warrior and Marth hesitated. Her teeth were clenched and her sword was shaking inside its sheath, making repeated clanging noises as it bounced back and forth within the scabbard. Tears were threatening to break from Marth's eyes as she stared at the old man she had come to respect and love as if he were her own grandfather. But there was also that mark, that damnable mark on Ian's back; it's six eyes staring back at her… mocking her.

"Please No'bun… I have to. It's…" she said in a pained whisper. The old man sadly shook his head no.

Marth bit her lip and closed her eyes to fight back the conflicting tears. When she opened them she saw an orb of pure darkness with swirls of purple to her right and saw Tharja standing at the doorway with a tomb in one hand and a ball of shade in the other, her own face one of dangerous warning as she fought back every urge to destroy the one who would dare threaten her beloved. After several tense moments Marth released her grip on her sword and her arm fell lethargically to her side, but her fist was still clenched, shaking ever so slightly at her newfound anger.

Ian, now finally releasing his hold on No'bun noticed the ominous darker than dark orb at the side of the room. He turned his head and saw Tharja by the doorway with her arm outstretched and the magic in hand.

"Tharja, what the hell are you doing?" He asked.

Tharja continued to glare at Marth with her menacing glaze before she eventually put her hand down and extinguished the sphere, "Nothing, Ian. Nothing at all."

Ian glowered at Tharja's cryptic message as he was now suddenly suspicious and turned around to look at Marth, "Marth, do you know what she is talking-" Marth looked as though she were about to erupt before stomping out the tiny room and slammed the sliding door shut.

"-about…" he lamely finished.

No'bun let out a long, painful sigh that almost sounded like a wheezing bellow, "Leave her be… I believe it is time for you to return to bed. Rest Ian, it has been a long… day."

"What about you, No- grandpa? Are you going to be alright? I can stay here and help take care of you. I'm fine, honest."

No'bun smiled, "No. That won't be necessary. Marth or Tharja will be around if I ever need something," he made an attempt at a cheeky smile. "Especially Tharja if she'd be so-"

"No," she cut the old man off, causing him to chuckle.

For several moments Ian stood at the door, staring at the poorly lit figure of his grandfather, torn between staying behind to watch over him or follow his wishes and allow him to rest.

"I'll be here if you need me. Just holler and I'll come running," Ian said.

No'bun smiled and watched as Ian and Tharja slowly slipped away. After the sliding doors had closed and making absolutely sure everyone else had gone to bed No'bun let out a pained grunt. His breathing began to quicken and as he sat up, he pulled the sheets off his body and took the candle by his bedside. There the shaking tender light revealed the twisted and grotesque jet-black scorches permeating his entire body.

* * *

For several days No'bun's condition seemed to worsen as time went on. His breaths were longer and much more labored like the sounds of a moose; low at first and ending with a higher pitched squeak. Along with the black marks on his body, the old man's skin had taken on an ashen color and had begun to prune in some places. It paled and darkened and even the silver in his beard had shriveled and begun to come apart. A stroke from a comb or even a gentle grasp could have taken a large wad of hair from the decadent mane.

Ian spent every day watching over his grandfather. At every cough he would ask if he was alright. At every moan he would ask if he needed a glass of water. Every hour he would ask if the old tactician was hungry. He fluffed pillows, fed medicine, re-read letters, and swapped stories in their times as tacticians. Ian was constantly by No'bun's side and had refused almost every reason to leave.

It was hard watching the dying old man, literally his last and only family member. There was a subtle sense of dread in Ian's heart as he watched No'bun slowly edge closer and closer to his potential death.

"_Most likely his death…" _Ian thought to himself as No'bun slept. What boredom he may have had sitting in that small room was overwhelmed by the aching desire to help his grandfather. He felt like a small and useless child, sitting at the bedside of their sick parent and with their only power in the situation was to ask repeatedly if they were going to be okay.

Tharja politely knocked twice at the door and Ian said she could come in. Ever since the incident with the dark mage's open hostility toward Marth, Ian had kept on eye on his friend and even asked what her problem was. But Tharja had decided to remain silent on the matter and told him not to worry, much to the ire of the tactician.

She sat down on her knees right by Ian and asked how he was doing.

Ian sighed, "It's not looking good. I've been giving whatever herbs and elixirs like the doctor told me to, but they don't be seem to be doing anything. I'm running out of money, don't even have enough for a vulnerary."

"That's not what I meant," Tharja said as she replaced the wet towel covering No'bun's forehead with a new one. "I'm talking about you. You've been in here the past few days obsessing over him, it's not healthy."

"What right do you have to tell me it's not right to obsess over someone?" Ian demanded. "No'bun is dying right before our very eyes and you're worried about me looking out for him?"

"I'm not worried about you looking out for the old man, but I am worried about your state of mind. Hopelessness is a dark place, Ian. I don't want you dwelling there."

"And you?"

"It's my state of being. I find comfort there."

The two sat in a comfortable silence for the next few minutes. Despite the weariness Ian felt toward Tharja and her presence, it was nice to have someone to talk to when No'bun couldn't. In truth Ian had tried multiple attempts to leave the room and focus on other things to keep his sanity, but there was always the admission of guilt later on that forced him back to his seat.

"Any word from Marth?" Ian asked after a moment's time.

"Hmm?"

"I haven't seen her for a while now. What is she up to?"

Tharja took in a long breath, looking as though she would rather talk about other things or perhaps nothing at all, "No. What she does is her own business, and what we do is ours."

"It's just strange is all. I know Marth usually goes off without a trace and that would have been the first thing to pop into mind, but I know she is still here. I hear her coming into her room late at night but is always gone the next morning. What do you think she's doing?"

Tharja huffed, "Again. None of our business," she paused for a second before eventually adding. "Let's talk about something else."

Ian stared at the dark mage before shaking his head in resignation, "So much for conversation."

Several moments past and Ian asked again, "Do you think he'll recover?"

"Doubtful," Tharja replied with little tact. "Dark magic is a sinister force. On it's own it is capable of many great and powerful things, but this is something else. I have only seen these kind of effects from prolonged exposure spanning years at a time. This was instant however. This was from you."

Ian's right hand curled into a fist as he stared down at the Plegian markings looking back at him, "...Dark magic can go rot in hell."

Tharja said nothing on the statement and allowed Ian to fester in his own hate.

"It's getting late. The old man won't be waking up for a while now. You should rest, waiting here won't do you any good."

Ian looked up from his hands and at his grandfather, looking at his slow moving chest rise and fall ever so slightly. It was getting to the point where it barely moved at all.

"But what if he-"

"Ian," Tharja cut him off.

The young man sighed once more and eventually gave in, "Fine… But only for a few hours."

Tharja nodded at his decision and watched as Ian slowly rose to his feet and stared down at the old man. He paused for a moment before he leaned forward and edged his lips toward No'bun's forehead. He stopped and hesitated, looking conflicted about whether or not to commit to the action until he scrunched his face in repulsion and finally kissed his grandfather's temple. Ian stood up and Tharja eyeballed him with a dubious stare.

Ian deflected the stare and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, "Look, it weirds me out too, alright? But he's my grandpa. An I don't know how much time I have left to do the whole 'loving grandson' thing."

Tharja nodded her head once in response, deciding again to say nothing.

Ian ran a hand through his messy hair and released a yawn, "C'mon, it's getting late. Let's head to bed."

The dark mage smirked, "I like that idea."

"No Tharja, not together," Ian massaged his temples like a migraine. "It's late, I don't want to have this conversation now."

"Hmm?"

"Just go to sleep, please."

A soft chuckle was heard from the dark mage when the sliding doors quietly closed shut.

About an hour later the doors reopened, waking up the bed ridden No'bun. With enough strength to keep one eye open he hoarsely uttered.

"Lucina..."

The blue haired warrior respectfully tilted her head before looking back and closing the doors. She sauntered on into the room and knelt by the old man's side. He asked.

"...Had you any luck?"

* * *

Ian woke up the next morning bright and early just as the sun rose, forgetting for a brief second about his grandfather's condition before forcing himself out of bed and out the door. As he stepped into the halls he noticed the door to Tharja's room was still closed, signifying she was still asleep. This humanized the dark mage to Ian, knowing that she slept like a normal person just like everyone else. The thought brought him some small comfort.

The same could have been said about Marth's door as it too was still closed - as it always has been for the past few days - telling him nothing if she was still here or had gone off again.

He stopped before No'bun's room and listened carefully for any sounds of snoring or heavy breathing. When he heard nothing, Ian took in a deep breath and opened the sliding doors wide; surprised to see Marth sitting silently by No'bun's side, her fists clenched and with a written piece of paper in hand.

Ian carefully tiptoed forward, "Marth? What are you doing here so early?"

Because of the room's dim lighting and Marth's hair partially covering her face, Ian couldn't read what the young woman was thinking, but even from the lack of sight he could have sworn he heard a slight sniffle. Silently Marth stood up with the letter and passed it over to Ian, her head still in a downward cast. She stepped past him and stopped as if she were about to speak, but said nothing and walked out and closed the door.

Ian looked back, confused and suddenly afraid by what had transpired. He looked at No'bun sleeping quietly in his bed before reading the paper in hand. It was a letter.

_Dearest Ian,_

_As the morning sun peeks through the dawn, I have come to realize that these may be the last few moments I ever see. My time left on this earth is short and I am thankful for all the joy this life has brought me. I am blessed to have experienced so much and to have known so many, but never more than knowing you. You may not remember much because of your amnesia. And while it is only up to the will of the gods that you do, I write you this letter in the case that you do not. _

_You lived your life here in this home for many years, cared and nurtured for by your loving mother. She brought you up with strong morals and strict when your strayed from that path, but she was not unkind. She loved you deeply and was proud to have you as her son. Your uncle, though not often here, was a soldier and because of his travels wrote you many letters regarding life, love, and friendship. He too loved you deeply and bragged about you as his nephew. _

_History has shown the terrible nature of Plegia, and though that was what your family was, do not disregard your heritage nor your birthright. Do not be so quick to judge others and remember this: Not all priests are saints and not all thieves are devils. _

_Do not despair by my passing and do not be ashamed by what has transpired but instead become thrilled by your new awakening. You will travel the world and relive everything you thought you once knew. This will not be the first nor will it be your last. Oh to be young again. _

_Now, my hand is starting to cramp and I was always terrible when it came to poetry. So for now I end this here. Good night. _

_Forever here,_

_Your loving grandfather. _

Ian's eyes were glued to the piece of paper. First it was disbelief, then was dumbfoundment, then disbelief again.

"What…?"

He walked over to No'bun's body and placed a hand over the old man's chest and felt nothing. The same over his mouth to feel any breathing and saw the same result. It was as the letter confirmed.

"You died?" Ian asked slowly.

He couldn't believe it. Ian paced back and forth in the cramped room, only making two to three steps before he had to turn around. Ian swung his arm holding the letter to and fro as he walked, letting the paper slip between his two fingers little by little but never fully letting it go. He brought both hands up into the air and brushed his fingers through his hair and released several bouts of dismayed breaths.

Ian looked at No'bun's body and he still didn't know what to think, "You're dead? You freakin' died? ...What?"

The tactician plopped onto the floor and rubbed his temple. Thinking and trying to figure out this situation, just like he had done so many times in the past before a battle.

"What the hell?"

It was slow, but eventually his grandfather's death dawned on him. Ian stared at No'bun's body, the aged, peeled skin hanging off the old man's face. The unsightly combination of old age and terrible dark magic.

There was an empty pit in the middle of Ian's chest. He was sad, depressed, and lost. No words came from his gaping mouth and he wanted to cry, but no tears came. His body, despite all the emotional turmoil, could not produce a single tear.

"C'mon, cry," Ian ordered himself in a drawn whisper. "Cry you idiot. This is the part where you cry. Your grandpa just died, you freakin' dumbass. Cry! ...What the hell is wrong with you?" He turned his head up toward the light from the approaching dawn and opened his eyes wide. Burning the tears out if he had too.

"Cry damn you!"

And with a mighty roar Ian slammed his fist into the wall behind him, tearing through the weak paper screen. He pulled his arm back in and destroyed more of the wall, viscously cutting up his knuckles with the broken edges of wood. His knuckles bled but he didn't care. He stomped his right foot against the floor multiple times in rapid succession before he finally screamed.

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"

The tears finally came but first out of frustration before sadness. Ian tilted his head back against the wall, his fist was still hitting against the lower end of the screen but with significantly weaker strength. His cried and he mutely swore, letting every emotion he felt out.

On the other side of the screen Marth leaned against the wall, hearing Ian's sobs. She closed her eyes and fought against the sadness that berated her. She slowly slid down and buried her face in her arms, listening to the terrible sound of Ian's cries.

* * *

The next day Ian found himself back in No'bun's room, surveying the seemingly empty space while trying to take in every bit of it in his memory banks.

No'bun's body was buried the evening before. His body wrapped in an old cloth because Ian couldn't afford to buy a casket plus the nearest town was several leagues away, a nigh impossible task even if he could. Though he could have waited to find a different solution, the only want Ian had at the moment was to be done with it. Done with the mourning and done with the memory searching, done with it all so the pain would go away.

In his hand was No'bun's old tactical guide, an old thing documenting all of his grandfather's past battle plans and campaigns. There were even a few hypothetical ones that centered around small groups of one or two people, most likely written after he and his wife escaped from Chon'sin.

Ian gripped the book hard for a moment before placing it into the bag on his back. When he looked back into the room, his eyes fell on the curved blade sitting on the shrine directly across from him. His mother's sword, Ashen, the sheath still shiny and pristine after all these years. Ian let out a sigh and hesitated for a moment, fidgeting in place before he walked over and picked up the sword.

It was light, especially in comparison to the other swords he's used before. He brought up the sword to eye level and slowly took out the blade, instantly noticing the one side razor edge facing upward. There was a flicker of light from the sun dancing on the sword's body, Ian nodded in satisfaction and sheathed the blade with a gratifying click.

The tactician walked out the room, his mother's sword at his side and grandfather's tome in his bag. Upon entering the living room Ian saw Tharja and Marth waiting for him. Both seated but in different areas of the room. Tharja was the first to stand up when he entered.

"Do you have all your things?" She asked.

Ian nodded, "Yeah. I'm… ready to go."

Tharja pursed her lips to Ian's cold response but said nothing on the matter, "Your horse is ready and everything is packed."

"Good," Ian said, still with the monotone voice. Tharja sighed and said nothing further. She then decided to leave out the front door but not before shooting Marth a heated glare. Marth countered with a likewise equal stare, keeping the look until Tharja grunted and walked out the room.

Ian noticed the exchange between the two women and raised a brow but kept silent out of apathy and wanting to leave as soon as possible. He looked at Marth, still sitting in her seat and waiting for her to get up so they could leave. She did nothing.

"Hey," Ian said to get her attention, his tone already sounding annoyed.

"So this is it then?" Marth began, cutting Ian off. "You're just going to leave. Just like that?"

"There's no reason for me to stay. Besides, I think Chrom may be worried with how long I've been gone," Ian responded, slipping in the little joke despite how terrible he was feeling.

"Just like that?" she asked again.

"Just like that."

There was a bout of silence for a moment with neither party saying anything nor moving anywhere. Marth looked up at Ian standing on the other side of the room, his eyes looking empty and despondent.

"I don't trust you," she stated.

Ian was taken aback for a moment, confused by what she had said. But the mourning from No'bun's death still lingered around him and he gave a sad smile and a nod, "Yeah, I don't trust myself either."

Marth's eyes lowered, "I don't trust you. And I'll kill you if need be."

"I wouldn't put it past you."

Marth fell silent once more, glaring at the defenseless tactician. This man killed his own grandfather, the last living family member left in his life. She wanted to call him a murderer and was about to so when she opened her mouth, but her eyes fell on the piano next to Ian and a question overrid her next words.

"Who taught you how to play?"

"What?"

"Answer the question," Marth ordered, not wanting to look like a fool for the randomness and suddenness of her inquiry, even in front of this man. She pointed at the piano.

Ian turned to where her finger was pointed and saw the box-like instrument. The beautiful piano which he had played on his first day here was standing strong and brilliant in comparison to other objects in the room. The tactician placed a hand on the wood's surface and hummed.

Marth watched, "You played beautifully back then," she paused, reconciling over her words. "Despite who you are."

Ian smirked at Marth's words, "Didn't I tell you back then too I didn't even know I knew how to play?" He opened up the lid to the keys and played a note.

"So the answer is no?" she followed, staring at the tactician's back. Her eyes lowered into a glare.

Ian paused and stared down at the grand piano and her claviatures before him, "If I had to make a guess. I would like to think it was my mother."

Marth tilted her head slightly and stared, not with hatred this time but curiousity, "Your mother?"

"Yeah," Ian smiled, feeling somewhat nostalgic for some reason. He felt the sword sitting hidden beneath his coat and was slightly comforted by it. "I was taught here obviously, that much is certain. It may have been from No'bun or my mother, hell it could have even been from my uncle. I don't know. I just like to think it was from her."

Marth fell silent at Ian's answer, not sure how to respond. Despite though however she felt toward the tactician, she couldn't help but give a hidden smile to herself, "I'd like to think so too."

Ian pressed one more key on the piano, causing the instrument to make a long, high pitched ding. He smiled and slowly closed the lid. Marth huffed and and stood up from her chair, grabbing her sword that was sitting next to her and placed in on her hip.

"We'll be going our separate ways. I will not be traveling with the two of you."

Ian turned around, "You're not coming with us?"

"No," Marth said flatly before pausing. "I don't trust you."

Ian said nothing before giving an understanding nod. "Fair enough."

"If next we meet and I catch you hurting others again, know that I will put you down."

"Understood."

Marth's face softened, looking melancholy even, "Your grandfather didn't deserve this."

Ian stopped breathing, the guilt from No'bun's death taking hold in his chest. He looked down, "No. No he didn't."

Marth nodded in agreement. Soon the sadness she showed washed away, returning back to the stoic expression she usually wore, "Goodbye, Ian."

"Goodbye."

And with that Ian watched as Marth walked out the door, leaving with him with the sound of a soft click.

Ian sighed and slowly sauntered over to the front door, taking in deeper breathes through his nose as he walked as if to take inasmuch of the scent of the home with him. Once his hand reached the handle, he turned his head to take one last look of the room. The books, the plants, the statues, the kitchen, the table, the chairs, everything. What once had so much life and laughter only days before, now soon to be empty. His eyes finally wandered to the resting place of the piano, still looking as magnificent and as strong as before. Ian gave a sad smile and turned the knob.

"Goodbye home. It was fun remembering you."

And with that he too walked out the door.

* * *

_Dunn, dun dun, dun dun... Dunn, dun dun, dun dun... Dunn, dun dun, dun dun. _

"_Mommy! Mommy!" _

_Dunn, dun dun, dun dun... Dunn, dun dun, dun dun... Dunn, dun dun, dun dun. _

"_Hey!"_

"_Yes, Ian?" Laura turned to look down at her son, seeing the white ball of hair on his head as the soft sounds of the piano faded into nothingness. _

"_What are you doing?"_

"_I'm playing the piano." _

"_I wanna play!"_

_Laura smiled, "Oh do you? Are you sure? I think you're a little too small to play."_

"_Yes!" Ian hopped up and down with laughter, trying to get up onto the long stool but failing miserably. _

_The mother laughed as she watched her son's antics. Soon she picked Ian up from under his arms and hoisted him onto the seat of her lap. It didn't take long for the child to poke at one of the keys and laugh in delight when it made a sound. Laura smiled and instinctively kissed the top of her son's head, "Wow, Ian! You're so good at this."_

_The response was more laughter and more random pressing of keys._

"_Teach me!" he giggled. _

_Laura laughed, "Alright, alright I'll teach you. But you will follow all of mommy's instructions, okay?"_

"_Ok." _

_Laura smiled once more, loving every second she was spending with her child, "Good. Follow my hands now, alright? Watch my fingers and see how they move…"_

* * *

**Holy cow, it has literally been an entire year since I last uploaded. I'm not kidding, as of writing this it literally says I last updated this October 2, 2015. How on earth did I let this happen? I'll tell you what happened. Procrastination to the next level happened. **

**This story, despite not being updated in a year was never abandoned. As with all new updates of chapters I immediately began work on this one, but at some point I lost motivation to write and so this chapter has been left untouched, often weeks at a time. Every now and then I would work on it, but only for a few sentences until I got bored. **

**This year has been a special one, especially with the elections as I hardcore got into politics. And I don't just mean arguments on the internet, but volunteering with knocking on doors and calling and all that jazz. Never thought I would willingly do that. Fire Emblem Fates was released which I thought was alright at best and made me question if writing _Awakening_ stories was even relevant anymore. I've been having more of a social life as I regularly hang out with friends, Overwatch was released which I find extremely fun to play and often do, and the new WoW expansion was also released so I've been grinding and leveling a whole lot since then. And I've also finally got into the university I've been applying to for the past three years. Took me forever but I've finally uploaded. **

**I apologize profusely for making you guys wait a literal year, I still intend to work on this story despite the end of the chapter sounding like the usual end of a series or show. I'll keep working on this and hopefully I don't become so bored from the scene and location that I procrastinate for so long again. If you're reading this and do intend on reading whatever chapters come next, then I thank you profusely for sticking with me. I'm sorry again for the wait and I'll get back to work as soon as possible. Thanks again and have a good one guys. **


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